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Topics - Kristopher Ryans

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41
Climax Control Archives / Arguments and Airplanes
« on: November 04, 2016, 10:57:46 PM »
 October 29th, 2016
Los Angeles, CA
Kristopher Halich’s Loft
[Off-Camera]

Heather opens the oven and enjoys the wafting smell of her lasagna. It had been a while since they had a family dinner. Before it had been difficult given that Kris and Vi were not speaking to one another, and, of course, Xandor’s very straight forward approach to expressing his thoughts often caused rifts with just about everyone. However, Vi and Kris had buried the hatchet and Phillip was happy if his spitfire of a wife was happy. Tragically, Xandor’s death had been nearly a year ago, but everyone seemed to have turned out better for it. Surprisingly it was not at all awkward to see the oldest Cooper girl with Parker Wayde now. More than likely, anyone that had the pleasure of holding very adorable daughter would agree. The food, however, still needed a few more minutes, meaning the hosts were once again keeping everyone waiting, as per the tradition of every time they got together. Kris pushes his way through the door and into the room, rubbing his hands together in front of his mouth, wide-eyed.

Kris: “Lots of kids, and lots of people that I guess are technically family in there. How did I get to this point?”

He crosses the room to his pregnant wife, and places a hand on her lower back as she continues to work to get everything ready.

Kris: “Tell me that there is something that I can help with in here so that I can make an excuse to get away from all of the love in the other room.”

Heather rolls her eyes, and leans back against the counter next to the oven.

Heather: “Are Vi and Phillip still making goo-goo eyes? It's almost too sweet, like it's an act but I know it's not.”

She smiles, but shakes the image of them out of her head before it brings back the morning sickness.

Heather: “You can tell me how pretty I am, that always helps.”

He shivers lightly. It was more of a mental reaction that a physical one.

Kris: “You are insanely pretty. I still maintain that you are the best looking of all three Cooper girls, and that includes being pregnant. You have not lost the top spot. And you can trust me on that. I was just in there with the other two. They are fresh in my memory.”

He motions back towards the doorway.

Kris: “As for the people out there though, I do not know which couple is more strange. Violet and Phillip are so in sync that they are like one person. Which is weird considering that she is actually a few people all on her own. Parker and Amanda though, it is like they know how they feel about each other, but do not necessarily have to show everyone. It is like both ends of the relationship spectrum out there. Then again, you know Parker, so that should not surprise you.”

Heather smiles again, not being thrown off guard by Kris backhandedly bringing up their past relationship.

Heather: “Parker is more reserved and as much as we had chemistry, I think in the end I would have probably stabbed him in his sleep. He is the definitive boy scout of your group of friends. Amanda is the mature one, so it kinda fits. Parker was so sweet when X died. Everything...”

She puts a hand, not realizing it, to her small rounded belly.

Heather: “...happens for a reason.”

She moves forward, into him, putting her arms around his neck.

Heather: “As much as people have criticized our relationship. Given us both grief for the things we've done to finally be with each other, no one could compliment me the way you do. Arguably we are blind leading blind but on the other hand, you just... get me. In a way no one else but another addict could truly understand.”

She leans her forehead against his.

Heather: “It is all pretty easy to understand when you have been there yourself. I don’t think that it is just that though. We have both been through rough spots as kids, and as adults. We are haunted in eerily similar ways. We have the same kind of sense of humor. And we can occasionally blow up at each other, and understand that it doesn’t have to destroy everything.”

Kris nods in agreement with her, but gestures back towards the door.

Kris: “Then again, I am pretty sure that everyone out there could say the same thing about their relationships. I kind of wish that Jay was here to balance the equation. He can kind of play moderator to all of the couples with his drive to fly solo. It has been like two years since he and Haley separated, and he shows no sign of wanting any of the things that all of us have.”

Heather narrows her eyes, picking up on the way his voice changed as he neared the end of his sentence. It was eerily close to what happened when he was lying. Almost a dead giveaway that he was not telling the whole truth instead.

Heather: “What's in Boston though? He mentioned going there when I talked to him last week. He likes to check on me and the pregnancy.”

She then smiles, rubbing her belly again. Kris’ eyes widen a bit in surprise. He was caught in the net, and if he tried to wiggle out of it, her mother instincts would pick up on it immediately and she would rip him apart while the rest of the family listened and laughed at his misfortune.

Kris: “I was not actually sure that he was going to be going. And, try not to mention it out there. Violet might break things, because of the family ties. It is Jules’ birthday thing. He threw her a huge party for her 18th a couple of years ago. Then they kind of hung out for a while. I don’t exactly know what did or did not happen there. I guess that means he is leaving the house for once. Impressive.”

Heather giggles at the speed at which the near-confession comes out of his mouth. Despite the words, she had been around long enough to read through all the bullshit and hear the real story.

Heather: “Wow. I know you mentioned that he seemed to have more than a ‘brotherly’ relationship for her but you know what, good for him. And Jules isn't so bad. Kahlan’s the one with the temper.”

Kris shrugs, knowing that this time he could blow off the conversation without sounding like he was lying. If his brother was notorious for one thing, it was playing all of his cards very close to his chest.

Kris: “I do not presume to know how Jason feels about anyone other than myself. That dude is a puzzle, inside a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, locked inside a rubix cube, and kept inside Pandora’s box. I have no interest in trying to solve or open any of those things, let alone all of them. He is like the polar opposite of me.”

He does let out a heavy sigh though.

Kris: “I mean; the dude is 30. This is her 20th birthday. It is weird enough without him paying attention to what anyone else thinks about it, and that includes me, but he still sounded undecided about even going this morning when we talked.”

He seems to reconsider his line of thinking though.

Kris: “I was invited, but had to decline. Not that Jules probably even wanted me there. Probably thought it would be easier to get Jay there if I showed, but we had these plans for a while now. Parker and Amanda had already driven down. No point in ruining everyone’s night. Plus, I will see him soon enough either way.”

He surveys the kitchen full of food that is now starting to be close to finished.

Kris: “So, need help carrying this stuff into the other room? At this point, I assume that everyone in there is thinking we snuck away to have sex. Or maybe just bailed on them entirely.”

He seems to think over his words though.

Kris: “Which neither of those things seem like a bad idea. Think you could fit the pregnancy belly out the window in order to get down the fire escape?

Heather smirks, running her hand down his chest.

Heather: “Ummmmm… no. But, maybe the second of those two things could be possible before dessert. I might need help with the pie.”

He laughs for a split second, but then his eyes read hers to gauge if she is being serious or not.

Kris: “Don’t play with me woman. You know I will hold you to it.”

She reaches up with her palm and smushes it against his face without a response before turning to check on the food in the oven again. He moves away from her and to the food on the counter.

Kris: “What should I take in first?”

Heather: “The garlic bread. I gotta take the lasagna out of the oven and I will follow. I think everything else that we need is out there already.”

He grabs the two baskets containing the bread in one hand, and moves towards the door back into the dining area while muttering.

Kris: “Hopefully with sharp enough knives to end the night swiftly….”

Before he pushes through though, he grabs two bottles of wine off of the counter.

Kris: “Just in case….”

He pushes through the door into the dining area packed with members of the rest of the family. Parker and Amanda were sitting on the far side, with Phillip and Violet closest to Kris, albeit with their backs to him. He reaches between the two of them to drop the bread on the table, and then nods to Parker before tossing a bottle of wine across the table that Parker catches without effort.

Kris: “Food is coming. Then again I did just leave a pregnant woman alone with lasagna, so maybe it isn’t, and if not you’re all chipping in for pizza.”

Amanda shakes her head from the opposite side of the table.

Amanda: “Don't let her hear you say that; she'll probably kick your ass.”

She reaches forward to grab two pieces of bread, putting one on Parker's plate. She smiles.
Amanda: “You don’t want to wait until she comes in or it will all be gone. This is her mother's recipe and it's amazing.”

She gives Violet a wink and the other red head laughs loudly. Phillip immediately shifts in his seat when he notices that Kris has stopped, and is standing right behind him. He looks back over his shoulder to the co-host of the get together.

Phillip: “Do we really have to play this game every time we see each other?”

Kris fakes total innocence, and tries hard to focus on opening the bottle of wine in his hand. Parker, on the other hand, has popped the cork on the bottle he was handed and fake coughs to get Kris’ attention. Kris looks up, and then tosses the second bottle to Parker over Phillip’s head, which makes him even more uneasy.

Kris: “Relax Phil, I am not going to stab you or anything. You can trust me.”

The shortening of his first name grates on him for a moment, but he lets it pass. He had become slightly more accepting of it now that he hears it over and over again from Jason, Parker and, most often, Kris.

Phillip: “Trust you? And end up drugged and on a bus to middle America again?”

Kris shakes his head disappointed.

Kris: “I thought we chose to forgive and forget, huh? Why do you always have to try to hurt me?”

Heather: “Okay, okay boys.”

Heather enters carrying the pan with oven mitts.

Heather: “Play nice or not at all.”

She sets down the perfect pasta dish in the middle of the table, and beams.

Amanda: “It looks perfect Heather; you really have grown up.”

Amanda gives her sister a motherly smile.

Violet: “Yeah, I remember when she used to burn everything and set the place on fire, so good job.”

Kris cannot help but give a chuckle, and even joins in on the jokes.  

Kris: “She has to set multiple timers, in multiple rooms, every time the oven is on, or we would be eating some unrecognizable black mush from outside on the curb while firefighters tried to save people from the building.”

This brings an even wider smile to Kris’ face.

Kris: “Maybe that would be a good thing for Parker though. Looks like you packed on some baby weight there, dark chocolate.”

Parker does not miss a chance to fire back at the man who was practically his little brother, despite the fact that Kris was older by more than two years.

Parker: “You one to talk? Jay told me about your little comeback tour together. If you want to pull that off without looking like an idiot, you need to lose some of that sympathy baby weight.”

Phillip, who was learning how to play this game pretty well decided he could also chime in.

Phillip: “And you cannot really turn to drugs to shave off the pounds quickly. You will have to do it legitimately this time.”

The whole room seems to freeze in shock, everyone’s eyes moving back and forth between Phillip and Kris. Phillip turns in his chair to face Kris with a smile on his face, which deflates all of the tension in the room. Kris cannot help but smile, and points a finger at Phillip.

Kris: “You only get one of those a night. One more and I am going to hug you.”

The room erupts into laughter; however, one person remains stonily focused on Parker. Heather clears her throat.

Heather: “Comeback tour?”

Parker looks up to lock eyes with Heather, and then over to Kris who very gently shakes his head no. Parker looks over to Amanda, who eyes him, perfectly able to tell if the next thing out of his mouth is a lie, because he is terrible at it from lack of practice doing it. Violet turns from Parker, to Kris, knowing she could get any information she needed off of his face. Phillip sinks in his chair, suddenly wanting to be anywhere other than in between everyone. Parker stutters over a few words before finally spitting out the truth, unwilling to throw himself under the bus to save Kris.  

Parker: “SCW, right Kris? You and Jason are planning on kicking the dust off of Jet City. Or at least that is what he was trying to tell me before he got called for boarding the plane this afternoon.”

Before Heather can turn to see his reaction, Kris mouths some very curse-ridden threats at Parker as he speaks. Violet seems to catch part of them and they bring a slight smile to her lips before she presses it away. She could have stayed quiet to watch it play out, but instead chooses to poke a little bit.

Violet: “So I guess no one told Heather huh?”

Vi leans back in her seat, an air of smugness as she crosses her arms over her chest. She then leans into her husband, linking her fingers with his, in silent reassurance that he does not need to panic over the situation. Heather locks eyes momentarily with everyone, working her way around the group before getting to, and stopping on, Kris.

Heather: “So they all knew? Everyone knew and nobody said a damn word to me about it? You told my sisters before me, Kristopher?!”

She stood, shaking her head she drops her napkin on her still empty plate and storms off. The sound of the bedroom door slamming rattles pictures on the walls. Amanda is the first to break the silence.

Amanda: “Should we... leave?”

Kris moves around the table, holding up his hands to everyone.

Kris: “Nah guys, I will go talk to her. We have all this food though. No use in all of you leaving. Go ahead and start without us. I don’t want anything to go to waste. I will be right back.”

He announces he is leaving the room, but oddly does not make for the door. Instead he rubs the palms of his hands together, and moves around the table until he is within striking distance of Parker and quickly slaps him in the back of his head. Parker turns in his seat and shoves Kris backwards with one arm. He stops short of rising from his seat, as they both break into laughter. It actually draws a chuckle from Phillip, who seems to take Kris’ side.

Phillip: “I actually heard from Violet that it was happening.”

Kris eyes Violet next, who says nothing, but points across at Amanda. Following the path, her eyes lead him right back to Parker, who had announced getting the information from Jason in the first place. Kris points around to all of them, with a kind of ‘told you so’ look on his face.

Kris: “And you people wonder why I never tell you anything. You are the most gossiping mother fuckers I have ever met.”

He shakes his head, and now does move towards the door,

Kris: “Damage control time…”

He pushes the door open with his back, but stops, as Parker is still looking at him.  

Kris: “And don’t think you were just getting off with the one slap. Imma beat your ass.”

Parker: “Keep dreaming Q-Tip.”

Parker waves him away, as Kris exits and the four remaining in the room try to get on with the evening. Kris moves through the loft, to the master bedroom, and tries the handle, only to find the door locked. He had no idea why she still bothered doing so. He quickly produces a paperclip from the top of the door frame and twists it into the lock, pushing on the single cylinder that works the lock and then turning the handle. He makes sure to put the paperclip back on top of the door before slightly cracking it, so she does not see it.

Kris: “I would just like to point out the fact that I did not tell any of them anything, and would appreciate not being hit with any flying objects when I open the door. Deal?”

Heather: “Fine, whatever.”

He can hear the sob in her voice when it cracks though. He pushes the door open and steps through, sitting on the end of the bed whereas she has taken post at the top, with a pillow on her lap.

Kris: “I have not mentioned anything to you, because nothing is set in stone. If you recall, not even ten minutes ago I told you that I was talking to Jason this morning. That is what we were talking about. We were kind of tossing around ideas, but it is not anything more than that right now. It would be at least a week before anything solid happened. Plenty of time for us to discuss it before any papers get signed.”

Heather: “How is it that this information got around my family this quickly yet neither of my sisters said a word to me? Do all of you still think I'm so fragile? I would never dream of breaking sobriety, pregnancy or not.”

He shrugs, and tries to find words to blame the people outside of the room, and even on the other side of the United States. He slams his mouth closed though, knowing that it will all boil down to it being his fault in the end anyways. He should have said something, and hadn’t, but it was not without reason. Instead of making excuses though, he sits down next to her, and says the only two words that she needed to hear from him right now, and he knew them well.

Kris: “I’m sorry.”

She puts her head on his shoulder. Before the start of this year, she would have never to expected an apology without a fight, or excuse first. That alone was worth letting him skate.

Heather: “Why didn't you mention it anyway? Even if it was just an idea? I'm not upset that you want to go back in a ring. I'm upset that you didn't even mention you thinking about it. You know I support you no matter what.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and then rests his head on hers.

Kris: “Honestly, I was not even really thinking about it until Jason started pushing for it. He kind of gave me this idea that it would be good for my recovering. I put myself out there just to get a rise out of people, and a paycheck. I didn’t care about the quality of what I was doing, or putting on a good show. I was messed up two-thirds of the time I was out there. Jason started telling me about how I have worked to fix so many of the mistakes that I have made, and this is just one more that I could atone for.”

He lets out a light sigh.

Kris: “Plus, with another baby coming. Waverly being around whenever we can get him. It would be kind of nice to bust my ass doing this so that we could not have to worry about lack of income. I could make things right with the world, make some money, and then put it all behind me for good this time. No regrets.”

He gives her a nudge to sit up, so that he can look her in the eyes.

Kris: “I also didn’t want you thinking that being here with you was not enough and I needed an escape from it all. That could not be further from the truth. I want to kind of stay local as much as possible. And even have you come with me as often as you can.”

She brings a hand up to either side of his face.

Heather: “Just please, next time, even if it's just a musing. Tell me first. Especially when it comes to our blended family. I would rather hear it from you first so we can talk about it.”

She nods, silently prompting him to do the same. When he does, she offers a smile, and a threat that comes out almost sweet.

Heather: “Or I will blame pregnancy hormones and stab you in your sleep.”

She leans forward to kiss him. He meets her halfway, so she does not have to lean over her growing belly. When they separate, he tries to ease any hesitation that she might be hiding, given her initial reaction.

Kris: “The moment that you think my doing going back is making being married, or being parents too hard, I walk away from it. You know I get short-sighted and can easily get so focused on one thing, that I don’t notice things going wrong in other parts of my life. The first time my going back to this negatively impacts you or the kids, and I am done with it. Deal?”

She gives him a soft smile and a nod, both of which he returns.

Kris: “Now, I believe we have food to go eat, and at least four gossipy family members to murder. Do you think that you are up for that?”

Heather: “If there is anything left. This is a family of vultures I swear!”

==============================================================
==============================================================

November 4th 2016
Santa Barbara, CA
Santa Barbara Municipal Airport
[On-Screen]

Kris and Jason Halich step off of their charter plane, and start to move down the steps, Kris talking over his shoulder to Jason, despite the cameras not picking up what is being said. Jason promptly reaches forward and slaps Kris in the back of the head, which draws only a laugh from the younger brother as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. As the two find their feet on the ground for the first time in a few hours, they are swarmed by a handful of interviewers. It was all Jason’s doing, as he had to greenlight people even being let through security, and had probably offered them big news that they simply did not have. Since suing Cody Taylor, and taking back all of the money invested into the failed company known as Pride Pro Wrestling, Jason had become sort of a public figure. It did not help that the two were flying around on the former co-owner’s plane, and, in doing so, appearing to live well beyond their means, or really even most people’s means who worked in this business.

Kris continued walking as they got to the ground, heading towards the car that was picking them up to take them to their hotel, but Jason was swarmed with camera flashes and little microphones shoved in his face. He quickly worked his way through them, and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, stopping him from escaping and spinning him around to face the camera. Some of the interviewers tried to squeeze in another word, but Jason cut them off.

Jason: “Ladies and gentlemen, for twenty-seven long years, I have had the genuine displeasure of knowing the man to my right. I have seen him in diapers. I have seen him shit himself. I have seen him graduate from high school. I have seen him win a championship in the company we step into this Sunday. However, I have only seen one of those things happen this week.”

Kris elbows his brother and shrugs his shoulder, pushing Jason’s arm out from around him. The interviewers enjoy a laugh at Kris’ expense, but Jason cuts it off short by continuing to speak over them until they stopped attempting to talk.

Jason: “Truth be told, Jet City coming to SCW is not the big news of the week that I told all of your bosses that I was going to give. Namely because, that was all bullshit. I have nothing at all to tell any of you, and if any of you so much as ask me about a personal relationship, or my recent trip to Boston, I have been told by all of your employers that they will erase any tape of me feeding you a camera against your will.”

The interviewers start to chatter amongst themselves, likely considering leaving due to the fact that there was no big scoop here, but Jason shoves Kris forwards towards the grouping.

Jason: “That is not to say that my very own pants-shitting little brother does not have something that all of you should listen to as it regards Ryan Keys, SCW, and our future plans.”

Even the people turning to leave seem to stop as Kris is shoved forwards. He pulls his Clippers hat off of his head, and throws his sunglasses into them before handing it off to Jason. The interviewers seem to make a circle in front of him, not seeming thrilled but not wanting to have made the trip down for nothing. Kris was known to get himself into trouble in front of a camera, so for all they knew, there could be a story after all. He sighs, and throws his head back, being well out of practice of doing this kind of thing, and then licks his lips before starting.

Kris: “I made a little bit of a splash last week by announcing that I was going to be returning to the only company that I have ever won a championship in. However, the person that I did not credit with putting that idea into my head, was the man you all actually came to see. Now, regardless of if he convinced you to come under false pretenses or not, the fact that you are all here says something about what his coming back to this business means. We were able to put together a couple of wins in a small company a year ago before it closed. Then we put our names on a contract that never got processed in another company that closed. Truth be told, we didn’t show up here back then because neither of us thought that I was going to be allowed back through the doors. I have a terrible track record with SCW. That is something that I have owned up to, and even apologized for last week when I announced I was going to be back. I am a flake. I am unreliable. I am a former drug addict that has been documented as having done this job under the influence. So, when I see the majority of the people excited to see my brother is back, but disappointed that my name, and Jet City is attached to it, I understand. It is a normal, and valid reaction.”

He offers a shrug to everyone standing in front of him, and anyone watching from home on the cameras.

Kris: “I have apologized. I have explained myself. Last week I listed the reasons for my turn around, and laid out exactly why I was back. To rehash that for all of you would be a waste of your time and that is something that I said that I was not going to do anymore. For those of you expecting to see some kind of cookie-cutter, polite, version of me make a return and push the thoughts of the old me out of your mind, you are going to be very disappointed. I assume any of you thinking that didn’t bother to pay attention on Sunday when Jet City made their first real appearance for SCW. I am not going to promise to be a better person, or less of an asshole. The only thing that I promised the world, this company, and my brother is that I was actually going to give a shit about what I showed up to do, for the first time in my life. Believe me, I have taken a lot of beatings in my life, but the very worst of them, have almost exclusively come at the hands of the person that is my tag team partner these days. I wouldn’t dare waste his time, regardless of whatever horseshit lie I was feeding the rest of the world. The fact that he is standing her behind me should make one thing very obvious: this is serious.”

An interviewer moves forward, breaking the almost perfect half-circle that they had formed in front of the two brothers. Before he can get a word out, Jason steps forward and smacks the microphone out of his hand and then points a finger at the man.

Jason: “Shame on you! Back in line.”

Kris shakes his head at his brother and leans into his ear, exchanging a few words that are not picked up. Jason disagrees with whatever it is, and gestures towards the camera for Kris to continue.

Kris: “The first thing that I did when I put my name on the contract was ask SCW for some information. See, they have people that transcribe whole shows, and all of those files are kept by the company. It is pretty easy to run a search for references to an individual. The things that I found, were not surprising. In the time I was away, I paid no attention to this business. The last couple times that I did bother to show up, I did little more than suit up, work a match, and bounce. I had no idea the things that were said about me back then, and I wouldn’t have really cared to even find out. There was only one thing that mattered to me back then, and it definitely wasn’t any of this. If you want to look at some of the bad decisions, look no further than my knocking up Liz Smalls. Anyone dumb enough to saddle themselves with that woman for the next 17 years of their life couldn’t have been thinking clearly, am I right?”

This draws a chuckle from the interviewers, and lightens the overall tone of Kris’ voice. Up until now it seemed like he was listing off things that he was being forced to say, but at this point, his face starts to light up, and his demeanor is a lot less rigid, ala the Kris everyone knew.

Kris: “The roster has gone through a lot of changes since I was last here. There are a lot of new names and faces. Apparently I blew past people last week that I had no idea who they were, and they are kind of a big deal now. To those people, sorry not sorry. Get better and maybe you will be worth paying attention to. I cannot apologize for your lack of being a face worth knowing. For those that are still here from the last time I was, but not holding a championship right now: What the fuck have you even been doing? If you aren’t a success by now, maybe it is time to hang it up. After all, I have been gone for almost a whole year. If you are in the same place now as you were then, all while using my name as a punchline for the promos you drone on in before you go out and lose, what are you even still doing here other than collecting a paycheck?”

A few of the interviewers seem to cover their mouths, not wanting to be caught by other cameras either laughing or acknowledging their agreement with his words.

Kris: “I can’t really fault them though. I was once here to collect some money, piss people off, and be on my way. To ridicule them further would be the pot calling the kettle black…”

Kris turns to ask his brother another question that does not get picked up, and Jason nods to him before Kris turns to continue.

Kris: “After conferring with my brother, we have decided that I am allowed to say “black” because the majority of SCW is pretty monochromatically white so it clearly is not a race issue.”

Jason leans forward over Kris’ shoulder and interrupts.

Jason: “Remember kids, racism is wrong and the heat it generates is temporary so basically a waste of time.”

Kris again shrugs his shoulder and glares at Jason and he holds up both of his hands in innocence before taking a step back.

Kris: “I guess that just leaves me Ryan Keys to talk about, right?”

He turns back to Jason for confirmation, who looks down at the palm of his right hand. He holds up an index finger for Kris to give him a moment, before reaching down and producing a pen out of his pocket. He starts to make little checkmarks next to things he has written down, and then puts the pen away and his hand down. He gives Kris a silent, stone-faced nod. Kris turns back around, appearing annoyed as he does, but almost immediately turning on a large fake smile of genuine excitement.

Kris: “There is not a whole lot that I can honestly say about this kid. Honestly, he probably has a better shot at getting under my skin than I do at getting under his. I researched the guy, only to find out that he has lost a lot of matches. I watched some of his promos, and read back a lot of the transcripts to find a lot of staged bullshit that he tried to pass off as luck of the draw. He actually played 21 with himself, and dealt cards to all of his opponents, only to have a perfect speech drawn up at exactly the moment their cards were displayed. Color me unimpressed by your attempt at sounding off the cuff. Other than that there were a lot of keyhole references, I guess meant as a fun play on his name. At one point he said something about a key doubling as a gun, I don’t know I got confused by it all.”

He looks down and shakes his head for a moment.

Kris: “At the end of the day, there is a lot more that he can say about me than I can say about him. My time here is storied, and most of it does not paint me favorably in the least. The best thing that I can say for my benefit is that when I had the chance to win a title, I took it, and I won it. I even defended it once. It seems that this kid comes up short more than he has his hand raised. Despite it, he seems to have started with the attitude that I was lacking the last time I was here. In his own words, he is a fighter that wants to put on a good show. If you paid attention to anything that I said last week when announcing my comeback, you will hear me utter basically the same words.”

He holds up his hands, as to stop people from thinking that they are similar.

Kris: “Do not get me wrong. That is about where the similarities die. I know what it takes to win here, and to win big. I know what it is like to take a beating from people, and still manage to have a title to raise at the end of the night. In one of his promos he even apologized for cheating. Now all of you know that is not my style at all. I am never going to apologize for wanting to win, and not giving a shit what I have to get away with to do so. If you aren’t cheating, then you are damn sure not doing everything in your power to win. If you are dumb enough to get caught and disqualified, well then rest assured that you are not smart enough to compete against me on any level, let alone inside a ring, between a couple of bells, and for a few thousand people to watch.”

Kris nods, with a smile on his face, proud that he had not lost the ability to turn a phrase in his time away.

Kris: “Ryan, you are just a first step on my road to professional recovery sir. No amount of being the crowd favorite, poorly executed cheating, or even whipping it out and helicoptering it in front of me and everyone in attendance is going to stop me from winning this match. I could be wrong, because memory for me is awfully foggy at most points, but I do not think that I have ever lost a match in a debut, or a return. You will not be the person to change that. This is my--”

Jason again leans over Kris’ shoulder, this time to correct him.

Jason: “Our!”

Kris again shrugs his shoulder to push his brother off of him, and corrects himself without acknowledging his brother.

Kris: “Our time…. And I am pretty sure that there is only one more thing to say. In two days, someone needs to call an ambulance….”

Jason hands Kris back his hat and glasses, that he returns to the top of his head and face respectfully before offering a wide smile.

Kris: “There’s gonna be an Accident.”

42
Character Building Roleplays / Changes
« on: October 29, 2016, 01:59:53 PM »
 [Off-Camera]
October 23rd, 2016
Los Angeles, CA
Kris’ Apartment

A lot had changed in the last year. Almost too much for Kris to even get his head wrapped around. Two years ago, a lifetime of bad decisions had left him an addict with nobody willing to take a chance on him. Everyone that got caught in his wake ended up worse for it. To make matters worse, a year and a half ago, he was finding out that a female that he had planned to publicly humiliate was having his baby, a son that son that changed everything back in  March. Eight months ago, he was making a joke that broke up a relationship of someone he cared about too much to admit to anyone, including himself. Exactly five months ago to this day, he married his best friend. Today, that best friend is 23 weeks pregnant with a child of their own. A girl. Two years ago the only thing that he could think about was finishing whatever painting he was working on, and finding some way to get his fix without so much as a dime in his pocket. How could everything have turned around so quickly? Two years is all it took to wipe away twenty-five years of everything else. He was still standing, despite his best efforts.

Here he was, bringing home groceries to a pregnant wife, in a loft in the middle of a city that was starting to have more positive memories than negative. He was seconds from opening the door, seeing her smiling face, greeting his, now speed crawling, and dancing son, and falling into everything that he never thought he would be lucky enough to get. The childhood that did not allow him to be a child was a bad dream. The ghost that haunted him for far too long was now a smiling reminder that things can turn around. The drugs that used to dictate his every behavior, were little more than a low whisper in the back of his head. He no longer needed the negativity in order to block out those thoughts. He no longer had to pick fights in order to validate his existence. For once, he was happy, and hoping that everything he had put together in the last two years was enough to keep it that way.

That is why sticking the key into the door, and turning the handle to greet his family was not a hassle in anyway. Sure, madness would ensue the moment he opened the door. His son would need any of one hundred different things. Heather would need help with someone. Likely, they would probably argue about something he forgot to do, or did not do well enough before the end of the night. But, considering the alternative, pushing the door open was not something that even needed a second thought. Everything he wanted was inside.

“Hello…….” Kris closes the door behind him with his foot, trying not to do so loudly in case his seven month old miniature was asleep. He balanced the groceries in one hand as he moved across the living room and into the kitchen. He found the room empty, much to his surprise, but immediately started to put items away. His greeting had been sufficiently loud. Yelling, or otherwise being loud, would likely only cause an argument.

Heather heard his call. She double checked the boy she had grown to love like her own, brushing sandy blonde hair from his angelic sleeping face. Quietly slipping from the room, a feat not as easy as it used to be now with her new ballooned middle and slowly developing waddle. Kris was putting away groceries, his back to her and she can't help but have a little bit of pride swell in her chest. She’d won.

Yes it sounded bad in that context. She had beat the perfect, ever popular and equally hated Liz Smalls, the boy's mother. She had gotten back the only man that had ever understood her, and she knew that she was the same. Even her own half sisters never understood her like Kris. His way of keeping her sober was to give her an ultimatum. Using his own addiction as blackmail.

She slips in behind him, hoping to hug him from behind but her stomach rubs the small of his back first before her arms can reach around. He drops his arms down to cover hers rubbing them gently.

“I figured that Waverly was probably either about to fall asleep, or having just nodded out so I didn’t want to yell out for you. I think I got everything that we need for the next few days. Liz is not going to be around, so I am assuming he is going to continue being here with us. You know how she is…. Terrible at communicating unless it is about something that she needs anyone to do.” He finishes putting things away in the cabinets directly in front of him before spinning to face her. His hands drop to her ever-expanding belly. “How is this one doing today?”

“Feisty. Definitely half a Cooper.” She smiles but it's evident in her eyes that's she's tired. She reaches a hand up to caress his cheek.

“If she comes out with red hair we may have to worry. Kinda scary. Three Cooper girls and we all have girls. So far Lav & Mara both have red hair.”

He shrugs off the negativity of the idea, “The only other option we have is her turning out like me. Is that something you really want to have to deal with? We already have one in the other room that hopefully never grows into the 50% Liz Smalls DNA he carries. I doubt that our little girl will be more of a handful than he is going to end up being.”

“But look at how great Blade is, he’s a Smalls too. It's all about how he's raised and no Son of mine is going to grow up like she did. He's got a lot of great support Kris. That isn't going to happen. He is his own person. I can see that already.”

She rubs her bump, the only real evidence that she was even pregnant at all.

“We cannot be so sure. I mean his dad is pretty much the textbook definition of a fuck up and his mom is probably the single most selfish individual on the face of the Earth. The one thing that he has going for him is a step-mom that is actually pretty awesome. Let’s hope that most of the genes that he got from my side are the ones that Jason got. I think that would be for the best. You know, aside from the bad luck with wives dying and whatnot, but we really do not have to worry about that for a couple decades. If you so choose to keep me around that long….”

He places his hands over hers on her stomach, and then hunches down to be face to face with the baby bump. “What do you think, huh? Think I can somehow convince mommy here to put up with me for that long?”

There's a rumbling sound and Heather laughs. “Sorry to ruin the moment with my stomach rumbling. You came home with food at the right time. And...”

She gets a serious look on her face

“If I can wait and deal with your shittiness before we got together I think I can put up with it for a good long while longer.”

He does not pull his eyes from the baby bump. “See, look at her, trying to convince me that it is all stomach rumbling instead of you talking to me. She just doesn’t understand, does she? It is okay, we have lots of years to train her better once you pop out of there and join us.”

Smiling, he pulls himself back up to his feet and presses his lips to his wife’s forehead. “It will require lots of training, but we will get you there.”

“Ha Ha Ha, Kris.”

She reaches around to grab his backside, squeezing hard and smirking at him.

“I know what your idea of ‘training’ is. “

She eyes the grocery bags. “So what's for dinner?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know what kind of training the baby and I can give you that involves my backside. Granted, there is a ton of things that I can think of, just not baby related. I think this may be the very first time ever that you have been thinking sexually and I was not. This is a milestone. We should celebrate!”

He gives her backside a squeeze now, and smiles widely at her.

“The food thing is all on you. You are the one with the weird cravings and I am the one that has eaten dumpster food before and not incredibly picky. Pregnant lady’s choice.”

She smiles, “Don't worry, nothing weird today. Was thinking pasta.”

She moves from his arms and starts to pull out the things she needs.

“Are you still against all the names on my updated version of our names list?”
He laughs lightly, “I would not necessarily say that I am against any of the names that you put on there. I am not just particularly sold on any of them. I mean we have to look at her lovingly for the rest of our lives. I wouldn’t want to call her by a name that she shared with a stripper that threw me out of a club, or any of the porn stars you worked with. That would be awkward.”

She sighs. “That narrows the list significantly you know.”

She sets up a pot on the stove.

“What about naming her after someone we care about?”

He shrugs, “Well that would work. Do we have people that we care about? I mean I already have a baby named after me. Do we care about more people than just me?”

He has trouble keeping a straight face through his words.

“Maybe one of Jason’s dead wives? Or we could name her after Liz even. I mean if she was not so exceptionally bad, we may not have ended up together. We should send her a thank you card at the very least.”

Heather stops, looking over her shoulder at him. He attempt at being annoyed is short lived as she smirks. “Then should we send one to Kaden too?”

Again, he shrugs, not one to be shaken by sarcasm. “I am pretty sure he has a restraining order out on me, and I could probably get in a lot of trouble if we did.”

He gives out a slight sigh, and the tone of his voice changes, dropping the sarcasm altogether. “Your mom maybe? Or either of your sisters?”

“I think they would both kill me if I did. Neither were particularly fond of their names. Hence why Vi changed hers. And Angel was on the list. I believe you said it was like setting up a stripper pole in the nursery.”

“We could always name her after you….” He looks down at the floor. “I think I could get used to Honey Halich….” He tries to fight back the smile that just saying it brings to his lips.

She rolls her eyes, flicking some raw spaghetti noodles at him.

“You are still the only one in position of my only hetero video you know. Actually I was thinking someone else...”

She takes a deep breath. “What about Lindsay?”

His sister’s name knocks the air out of his lungs. She was mostly just a quiet voice in the back of his head pushing him to be happy for the both of them these days. However, for the longest time she was the driving factor behind not allowing himself to be happy in the least. The suggestion caught him off guard, and he struggled to find a way to address those feelings.

“So that is a no on Honey then?”

“If it's too hard, then it's fine. I thought maybe it would be a nice tribute to her. I know it's hard to talk about and...”

She sighs.

“Just pretend I didn't say it.”

He shakes his head.

“It is not that. Just caught me off guard.”

He clasps his hands in front of his waist and rolls his thumbs around each other.

“Is that something that you would be okay with doing? I mean… I have done some pretty terrible things when thinking about her is involved. The whole not wanting to get married. Never wanting to let anyone get close to me. Not wanting to be happy because she never got the chance to be. It is a lot. So is this just an offhand kind of thing, or something that you have been thinking about?”

She stops putting the pasta in the pot, but doesn't turn right away.

“Kris, your sister's death has been the catalyst for every moment in your life since it happened. Just like my step-father raping me was mine. I'm not saying you should celebrate either, obviously not. They're both horrible unspeakable things, but as much as they set us on our individual paths, and despite the pain it gave us, it was those things that eventually led our paths to cross.”

She finally turns.

“So yes, I have thought about it. I thought about it the entire time I fought the urge to drown myself in whisky and the waters of Laguna beach after you chose Liz. I thought about it when you accused me of not being loyal to you after and I thought about it the moment you comforted me when I was crushed by yet another man. Our story isn't a disney fairytale but it's ours. Do I wish it had been? Fuck no. Then we would be just like every other cookie cutter relationship that dies and falls in our... Circle? I don't even know what to fucking call that cesspool. Regardless in the end, all roads lead back to her. She didn't ruin your life though, you just tried to make amends for your mistake. Atone for it. Did you ever think that all you needed to do was forgive yourself? She probably wants you to let go and be happy and maybe, naming the baby after her will help you to feel that forgiveness too.”

She's nervous. Deep conversations were sometimes a hit or miss with Kris.

Hearing her out was always the easy part of the conversation. Heather always seemed to touch on what the little voices in the back of his head told him to do. His problem was that the rational voice, was the small one. The rest of him was the turn and run, and go nuclear to get out of these kind of situations. She was getting too close to the core of him. Anyone else would have been cut loose by now. In fact, she had been cut loose once before. At the same time, getting her back was the first time he had ever allowed himself to be honest about what he wanted out of life. The first time he allowed himself to value someone more than himself. He was much too invested to run at this point, and she had delved way too deep with her words for sarcasm to brush it off.

“Forgiving myself? It has never been a matter of forgiving myself. It has always been a matter of thinking that there was anything in me worth forgiving. Anything worth doing anything positive. Her accident laid down the path that I spent twenty years on. Telling you how I felt was a step off of that. Getting married was a big leap away from that. I no longer think that I don’t deserve happiness because she will never get the chance to be happy. Instead, it is just kind of my job to be happy enough for the both of us.”

He pauses and considers the name that they would be giving to their daughter. He already knew that this baby girl would probably be the one puzzle piece that snapped everything together and made running back to his old ways impossible. He had built a life. However, his marriage was still in its infancy. As much as his son meant the world to him, so far he was only able to be a part time parent because Liz had partial custody. This little girl was going to be the single thing that made his past life cemented as just that, the past. Why not build the barrier to the past with the one thing, that if changed, would have erased everything else?

“Let’s do it.”

Heather had seen that look in his eyes many times since they had been friends, lovers, even spouses. She knew all too well how internal struggle tugged at you. She knew that bringing her back into his life was a chip in that barrier he surrounded himself with. One of many decisions, unlike him, that had ultimately led to the crumbling and destruction of that wall. She knew him so well, yet still had so much still to learn about him. It made every day an adventure.

She smiles and steps in closer to him, looking up.

“You're sure?”

He laughs lightly, “About absolutely nothing in this world….”

He reaches out for her hand though, and once their fingers interlock her pulls her close enough to wrap his arms around her, pregnant belly and all.

“But I am willing to give it a shot.”

“I love you. I don't think I tell you enough. I love everything you are, even when we argue and I give you the silent treatment. I mean it could be worse, I could have an evil second personality or something?”

The dig at her sister was meant to reduce the overly mushiness of the moment.

“If we are made to compare the particular Cooper girl I ended up with to the other two, I think I won. One of them is not just a little crazy, but full on insane. The other one has just relentless banged Parker…. Oh… wait... “

Heather punches his shoulder, “Don't tell him this, but that stereotype about once you go black... Is just a stereotype.”

“Oh, I tell him that every single time he talks about having slept with my wife.”

He gives a light shrug of his shoulders though.

“We are all good as long as the baby does not come out looking any kind of chocolate though.”

“Not a chance. As weird as it is having your sister date your ex... They are good for each other and he's a great Dad to Mara. But we're getting off topic here. We just gave our daughter her name.”

“At least the name she will go by before turning 18 and requiring a stage name. Assuming that she takes after either of us in the least.”

The words come out as sarcasm, but it only takes a moment for the reality of them to sink in.

“We should consider locking her in a closet until she is 30….”

“Then she'll really turn out like one of us.”

She looks serious for a moment before chuckling.

“Do you ever think that we teeter on the border of either being really awesome, or really terrible parents?

“So far, I think we’ve done pretty well with KJ.  I love him to bits so I can only imagine how good it will be with Lindsay.”

She smiles.

“I know we all have our fears Kris, especially as parents but I think this is one area that we might actually not fuck up in.”

He kisses the side of her head, and nods in agreement.

“Hopefully…”


======================
======================


[On-Camera]
Kris’ Apartment
October 27th, 2016

Light comes through the window at the far end of the room, behind where Kris sits. He is dead center in the middle of his couch with nobody else around him. His laptop, with the camera already recording, is placed in front of him on the coffee table. He leans forward, towards it, his hands clasped together in front of his body, resting in his lap.

“Some people are, of course, going to ask why I am doing this to myself all over again. It is not as if this road I am taking has ever been especially profitable for me. I have enjoyed very minor success in a handful of places. I have earned a good chunk of money. On the flipside of that, I have lost friends, made dozens of enemies, ruined relationships, destroyed families, broken bones, and made an uncountable number of poor decisions for the sake of making an uncountable number of poor decisions. I left this line of work in order to escape these facts, and break the cycle of self-destruction.”

He sits back and sighs heavily, before running his fingers through his hair.

“I left and created a real life for myself. That is not to say that I did not have a life beforehand, but it was arguably not one worth living. In the last year, I put together the things in life that most people take for granted. I cleaned up my act and found normalcy. I have a wife, a son, a house, and all the happiness that I could ask for. These were all things I used to run from and push away when they got anywhere close to happening. I did not believe that I was deserving of this kind of life, so I went out of my way to deny myself these things. I never had normalcy in my life, not even from the start. If I didn’t deserve it as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult, my thoughts were that they had no place in my adult life.”

He rolls his eyes, looking almost sickened by himself. It was very clear from his body language that he no longer followed the same pattern of thought that he was describing.

“Instead of running to the things that I wanted, I ran towards conflict. Instead of building a foundation for myself, I sought out chaos. If I couldn’t find it, I created it. Whether it be through substance, women, or words every decision was aimed to create friction. My job of choice? Fighting. But fighting was not enough. Anyone can step into a ring, have a match, and feel good about their effort whether they win or lose. That was never enough for me. Not even a win was enough for me. I needed to manipulate, irritate, vex, enrage, or otherwise break down anyone that was scheduled to stand across from me. If that meant breaking up their relationships, so be it. If that meant poking and prodding at the tragedies in their lives, then it was just the price of playing the game. I needed everyone across from me to want to see me dead. I savored the rage within the beating more than a result at the end of the night. Every time the bell rang I needed to face an individual that I had made less than human by way of being a slave to their rage. Most nights, losing was actually preferable to walking out victorious. If they won, it was a result of my successfully twisting them up inside. The psychological game was more important that the physical.”

He pauses to collect his thoughts in order to put them in their simplest form.

“My life, my career, my every decision, has been atonement for things that were out of my control. The beatings, the harsh words, the broken bones, and everything that came with them was punishment. I created a situation where I was given what I felt I deserved. All of it was a fight I was determined lose everyday until the moment that I finally walked away.”

He laughs, but it seems to lack any real job at all.

“Stepping away was my first ever act of self-preservation. Before that, I led a life of tearing myself apart. Afterwards, I cleaned myself up. I allowed someone to finally get close. From that point, to this moment, the metaphorical snowball has continued to roll, gain momentum, and grow. Everything that I craved in life has started to fall into place. Relationships that were damaged have begun to be mended. Walking away, at the moment that I did, probably saved my life. That does not mean that there is not something significant, or important, that is still missing.”

He gives a look around the room, almost as if to check to make sure that nobody is eavesdropping before he lets scores of individuals watching in on some secret.

“A big part of any addict’s recovery is making amends and correcting mistakes. You are literally tasked with owning up to the personality flaws and bad decisions, no matter how small. The time I spent in this profession was littered with bad decisions, broken promises, and missed opportunities. Now, I have no delusions of grandeur. I could never set everything right, nor would I be welcomed back into many of the places that I have wronged. The only way that I can even make a dent in the negativity, is to come back and show everyone that I can do things the right way.”

He holds up his hands as if to stop an imaginary person from being able to interrupt him.

“Don’t misunderstand me though. This is not the kind of redemption tour that is going to be all hugs and rainbows. This is not going to be me coming back as the defender of all that is good and righteous. Rules will, as always, get bent or broken. Faces will get pimp-handed when they least expect it. People will be offended by the things I say and do. SmackShots will be distributed to previously unbroken jaws. Fans will probably end up booing more than cheering when my face lights up the screen. I am not promising to be someone that I am not. I am promising to show up, play my part, and for once, actually care about putting on a show worth watching.”

He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together in front of his mouth.

“So, for the first time in a long time, we have finally arrived at the one thing that is left for me to say.”

“I am Kris Halich.”

“Someone call the ambulance….”

“There’s gonna be an ACCIDENT!”

43
Climax Control Archives / Theres Gonna Be An Accident
« on: November 06, 2015, 06:21:40 PM »
  “When I took a break from SCW, I always knew that it was temporary. People, of course, gave me all kinds of shit about not wanting to travel. Let me ask you this though, after being jumped in Los Angeles on your best friend’s birthday, and then traveling across the world in very next day to defend a title, would you not be mentally and physically worse for wear? Would you not need a break? Would the flights, twelve hours or more at a time, not start to be painful? Despayre beat me fairly. He was the better man that night. I have no excuse for that. However, after that night, there wasn't anything left to stop me from going on hiatus. I needed time. I took my time. However, that time off was not something that went smooth. In reality, I got beat up more in my time away then I did while I was here. I was pushed from my comfort zone. I was taxed mentally and physically…. And it all started on the 21st of September. That is a day I will never forget, because that was the day that everything changed.”


============
September 21st

Kris arrived, not knowing what to expect and after knocking, Liz opened the door. The two made eye contact but nothing was said as she stepped aside, allowing Kris to step in. Liz was wearing one of the shirts Kris had left after their mutual breakup, it was big on her. She also had on shorts, but you couldn't see them because of the shirt. The puppies mingle by Liz's feet and begin sniffing Kris out, but aren't causing a fit because they remember him. Liz points to the couch.

Liz Smalls: "You wanna sit down?"

He looks at her, slightly confused by her pleasant greeting. He expected her to be angry, especially given the battle with Austen on Twitter.

Kris Halich: “Yeah, we can do that. You came across really weird in the texts. Did someone die or something?”

Liz Smalls: "No, O-M-G I would be in tears right now. Just...sit down."

Kris takes a seat, and Liz sits next to him on the couch, keeping her distance. The puppies cry wanting to join them but Liz doesn't pick them up.

Liz Smalls: "So, we obviously have a lot to talk about. I'm the first to admit I made mistakes before. As far as cheating, I've never done that. But I wasn't always the most pleasant person to be around, especially towards your friends, so first, I want to apologize."

She studies Kris' face, unsure of how he'll react to anything she says, especially given the twitter situation. He shrugs, not one to hold a grudge.

Kris Halich: “I made plenty of mistakes while we were together. I never thought what he was saying was true, by the way. I was just mad you never said anything about it.”

He sighs.

Kris Halich: “My friends, Amarissa’s family, I really don't care who else's feelings you hurt. I am really just done trying to make everyone happy. It is mentally draining.”

Liz Smalls: "What about you, are you even happy in life right now?"

Kris Halich: “I don't even know what I am right now.”

Liz Smalls: "Well, this probably isn't going to make you any less confused then."

She slowly begins lifting the shirt, but stops.

Liz Smalls: "No matter what happens, how you react, I still care about you...I want you to know that, and promise not to freak out?"

He looks at her oddly when she starts to raise the shirt.

Kris Halich: “Wait, you're taking off clothes?”

He seems confused.

Kris Halich: “Did you call me over here to seduce me or something?”

Liz laughs, nervously and scoots a little closer. She stretches her legs out ahead of her, resting her feet on the coffee table as she begins slowly lifting her shirt again. FInally, she lifts it enough to show a small hump, barely noticeable even. Her head turns and her eyes nervously move to his as she says nothing. He follows her hands when she lifts the shirt and his eyes widen. His eyes shift from the bump, to her eyes and then back several times while his lips struggle to find words.

Kris Halich: “So... you're saying that in your down time you have put on a few pounds or something? Because I know you aren't trying to say what I think you are saying…”

She shakes her head no.

Liz Smalls: "I haven't put any weight on Kris..."
She cautiously reaches over and grabs his hand. She lifts it and moves it onto her exposed stomach, the smile on her face now growing.

Liz Smalls: "I'm...we're pregnant."

He pulls his hand away and pushes himself backwards off of the couch and to his feet.

Kris Halich: “No, there is no 'we' here Liz. We broke up. And that... that..”

He points down at her stomach.

Kris Halich: “That's not real. You're not serious. If this is some ploy to get me back then it's a sick game you're playing here. I should... I..

He looks around aimlessly, trying to find something to focus on, but his eyes can only find her stomach.

Kris Halich: “No. Just no. No.”

He shakes his head several times trying to convince himself. Liz's expression changed, the smile replaced by a look of panic as she pulls the shirt down and stands up, keeping distance between them, not wanting to freak him out anymore.

Liz Smalls: "This isn't a game, or anything to get you back. We broke up with each other, remember?"

She gives a few moments to let it sink in to Kris, before continuing.

Liz Smalls: "This is a result of probably what we both did, and it affects us both. Kris, you're going to be a daddy. Aren't you happy?"

She slowly moves closer towards him. He starts to pace back and forth at the edge of the couch. The dogs start to circle with him. He raises his hands, lacing his fingers and draping the palms of his hands against the back of his head.

Kris Halich: “I am... no.. I am not capable of that.”

He stutters trying to find some new words and can't.

Kris Halich: “We aren't. Parents?”

He laughs uneasily.

Kris Halich: “The two of us? No. That's not a real thing. We can't be. That doesn't even sound right.”

Liz Smalls: "You're the first person I've told, Kris. This is real. We have a beautiful little girl or boy growing inside of me."

She walks closer, again, cautiously.

Liz Smalls: "That's why I took a break from wrestling. Why do you think I would just drop out of something when I've had so much success lately? It's because for as selfish as people think I am, I would NEVER risk our child's health, just to chase a championship belt."

She grabs his hand again and puts it under her shirt.

Liz Smalls: "Kris...we need to make this work."

He pulls free again, but doesn't make a move for the door like the rest of his body is screaming for him to do. Instead, he falls back to sitting on the couch.

Kris Halich: “I just... It's not like I... oh fuck... but…”

He sighs again, replaying her words and trying to talk his way out of the situation.

Kris Halich: “There is no "we" right now. We aren't together. This doesn't change that. It isn't going to be one of those trapping me into a relationship things. This is just…”

He looks up at her stomach again.

Kris Halich: ‘I can't do this. I'm not meant for this.”

Liz Smalls: "Fine, there's no we. I don't want you to feel trapped."

Liz remains standing, looking down at her feet and dropping her shirt to cover her stomach. Her eyes remain to the ground as she quietly speaks.

Liz Smalls: "I think you'll make a great daddy..."


He laughs, and his eyes fall to the floor.

Kris Halich: “You're insane. We would both be terrible parents. Honestly, I already feel sorry for…”

He can't bring himself to address the bump directly for what it is.

Kris Halich: “... that.”

He sits back with another heavy sigh. His eyes pull back to focus on his lap.

Kris Halich: “I can't make a right decision to save my life. I am an addict. I can't be trusted. You... Liz, let's be honest. You're as selfish as I am. You struggle to be nice to anyone. Both of us would rather be competing than sitting at home with our thoughts. We aren't parents.”
Liz's eyes shoot up, her voice raises.

Liz Smalls: "I WAS selfish, and you WERE an addict. We can change, you already have, unless you've suffered a setback?"

Not waiting for an answer, she continues.

Liz Smalls: "We CAN be great parents...I'm going to be a good mommy. I've even gave up french fries already! You know how much I love french fries."

Kris rolls his eyes, but still seems to be fighting himself internally.

Liz smalls: "I might not wrestle again Kris. As much as I love that spotlight, my first priority is going to be OUR CHILD...no one is going to give us any chance at this, but I know we can do this."

Kris Halich: “We can't do this... I can't...do.. this.”

He shakes his head as more doubts come to mind. Jason's difficulties. His own father. Everyone was screaming in his head.

Kris Halich: “You don't want me around this baby. I can't handle that pressure. I'm not Jason. For all I know, I am no better with kids than my own father.”

Liz Smalls: "You're NOT your father. You can either run away like a scared little boy, or you can tell yourself now that you will be a BETTER father than your own. I know I'm not the one to give big pep talks, but Kris...this is the most important thing that will EVER happen in our lives. Our first child..."

Kris Halich: “Our FIRST child? FIRST? I am trying to wrap my head around how this could have happened and you are already looking forward to the fact that it could happen again? Do you hear yourself?”

Liz Smalls: "I'm not saying it could happen again, O-M-G!"

Liz stomps her foot on her carpet.

Liz Smalls: "I meant, we'll NEVER get to have our first child again, this is a huge thingy."

She moves back to the couch and sits next to him.

Liz Smalls: "Why are you so scared of this? I know you can do better than your daddy. I know it Kris!"

Kris Halich: “You KNOW it? What do you actually know about me Liz? I mean really. I can barely make it through a day without buying heroin. I have sold anything and everything I have ever owned to buy that shit. I have manipulated and controlled people in order to do whatever I want to them. I played you in order to break your heart in front of a public that would just laugh at you. What part of that makes me a good person?”

Liz Smalls: "You're a good person because you decided against breaking my heart in front of the world. You no longer manipulate people and you fight that urge to buy that poison. You've changed. How do you not see that!?"

He straight up laughs in her face and rolls his eyes. After shaking his head a few times, he turns his gaze to her. It is a cruel look on his face.

Kris Halich: “I have sat and watched a kid overdose in front of me. A kid that had no interest in doing a drug before I worked on him for a few days. I purposefully gave him too much. I waited for it to go wrong. I took his money. I took what he bought. I called an ambulance and left him in his own vomit. That is the kind of person I am. And now you think I can take care of a kid?”

Liz's eyes widen in horror, having never heard that story before.*

Liz Smalls: "I...I...I..."

She can't figure out what to say, nothing will come out but his gaze doesn't falter and his words don't stop there.

Kris Halich: “Four people in this whole world know what I just told you. One of them is that kid. I don't know what happened to him, and if I am honest, I do not much care. When you boil it down, that is who I am. Regardless of what you or Heather want to see in me, that's what I am. You don't want me around this baby.”

"I do..."

She wipes a single tear as it begins rolling down her cheek.

Liz Smalls: "Kris...I believe in you. I know your past is...sketchy...but I know your heart. This child will change your life. Please, make the choice to be in its life."

Kris Halich: “I don't know Liz. This is a lot to try and wrap my head around. I mean, it isn't like you found out yesterday. Obviously you struggled with it for a while. You can't hope for me to be able to do so in a matter of ten minutes.”

Liz Smalls: "I know..I just want you to think about it. Think about how much regret you will have if this child grows up not knowing its father. How would that make you feel?''

Kris Halich: Maybe he or she would be better off not knowing me…”

Liz Smalls: "Thats ridiculous."

Liz lifts the shirt of Kris' that she's wearing and again stares at her stomach, the smile returning as she does.

Liz Smalls: "I'm so excited..."

He looks up at her stomach again and starts to reach out before stopping short of touching her. His hand drops.

Kris Halich: “I need time…”

It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but she understood. She looked up, nodding, keeping her stomach exposed.

Liz Smalls: "My doctor said I'm due on March 20th."

He laughs.

Kris Halich: “I doubt I will need THAT much time...

She runs her manicured hand across her stomach.

Liz Smalls: "I wanted you to be the first to find out, it's only right. I understand you needing time."


Kris Halich: “This is what you want? You want to carry this baby and have it? You want me to be around it? That is what you have decided?”

He locks onto her eyes, looking for answers. She squeezes her lips together and nods proudly, definitively.

Liz Smalls: "I want to give birth to this child, and I want you there by my side when I do."

He swallows hard and fights shaking his head. He looks like he is leaning away from running, and towards her but his words cut him off.

Kris Halich: “I can't promise to be able to do that right now. I need to go before I say or do anything stupid. I just... this is a lot.”

She nods again, slowly. She wanted to ask him to stay, but knew that wasn't fair.

Liz Smalls: "Take all of the time you need. Thankies....for coming."

She looks down at her feet again as she digs her toes into the carpet nervously. Again he lets out a sigh and pushes himself to his feet. He turns to go, but can't force himself past her. The devil on his shoulder screams at him to consider sending a jab to her stomach and ending their misery. In fact, his hand raises towards her stomach at the thought until the rationality returns to him. Instead, sliding his hand under her shirt, he places a hand on her stomach. He swallows hard, not finding any answers in doing so, and not knowing if he was supposed to. He leans in and kisses her cheek, brushing a tear away from it. His hand drops, and he takes a single step away. His mouth opens to say something but the words don't come. There aren't any of them left. Instead he keeps moving towards the door.

Liz Smalls: "Travel safely...if you need anything, I'm here for you Kris."

Liz says quietly, hoping he decides to be there for their child, secretly hoping he's there for her as well. He gets to the door, and turns to look over his shoulder, nodding to her.

Kris Halich: “You be careful too. No driving and texting. Actually, eat whatever you want. There is another whole person you are eating for now.”

She smirks, saying nothing as she watches him walk out of the door, closing it slowly behind him.



==============
Present Day

“I doubt that I actually deserve this match. In fact, my return match for the Internet Championship probably should have been vacated the moment that Despy dropped that title. If not then, then definitely when I flopped in my return. However, I am not going to complain. If I am totally honest, I do deserve a return match against Despayre. My only reservation is the stipulation. Despayre started my downward spiral. First, The Nobodies lost to Seven Deadly Sins. Then he kicked my ass to take my title. After that, I had to take time away to refocus. Despayre started that when he tried to chew off my face. If I was a lesser person, I would have made my return by attacking him. I guess you people are looking at a different Kristopher E. Halich. Someone with a new look. Someone with a new attitude. Someone that, in their time away, learned a few things about life and growing up.

The thing that I have to prove to myself, and everyone else, is that even though I am different, I am still able to compete on the same level as anyone else in this company, or this industry as a whole. I can promise that I have not lost a step. I can promise that I have kicked off the ring rust.

I can also promise that someone should call the ambulance.

Despayre is gonna be in an Accident.

44
Climax Control Archives / Nobodies and Somebodies
« on: May 22, 2015, 11:57:24 PM »
 Algeria [Post Climax Control]
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17 May 2015 (11:06 PM)
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Off-Camera [Backstage Inner Thoughts]


He zips the gym bag closed, and turns around to survey the rest of the small locker room for any of his belongings he may have forgotten to pack. Sure enough, he crosses the room and reaches down to the small couch, picking up is black and purple gloves. He smacks them on the back of his right hand, checking out the rest of the room to make sure there was nothing else lying around, and then nods before moving back to the bag. ”I wonder how many people lost their money tonight on that match. Everyone was rooting against me, not that I can fault them. Sure, I am carrying what is supposed to be looked at as a second tier title, but not even the backstage announcers care enough to lend me their ear for a minute. Kris Halc versus Goth with the SCW Internet Championship on the line. Kris Halc, the guy who only retained the title in Morocco by getting his friend to cheat Kain. Kris Halc…. who the hell is that guy? There are those, and a dozen more, reasons not to bet on me. That doesn’t even go into accounting for the fact that Goth is a Triple Crown Champion going for a Grand Slam, and coming off a win in the most brutal contest from the supercard in Morocco. Sure, it’s fucking Africa, but people in Africa bet, don’t they? I bet they do. I bet a lot of people are unhappy.” He throws the gloves in the bag and rezips it. Hanging in the locker above it is the SCW Internet Championship. He had purposefully left it out of the bag. He hangs the gym bag on his right shoulder and then reaches out, taking the title and placing it on his left. ”Sure, I have a few bruises here and there, but if anyone is about to give me shit, maybe the bruises, along with flashing a little gold will get them to back off. Security people weren’t in front of a screen watching the show from back here. They wouldn’t just off hand recognize my face from having just been in the ring. Even if my face, my bruises, and my title don’t do the trick, maybe they are more concerned with the faces that they do know. I am walking out of the building without any kind of entourage or fancy car outside. Maybe they will be busy making sure people like Gabriel and Andrew Watts are getting out unscathed by hordes of cheering and adoring fans. I fucking despise them.”

He flips the lights off in the room as he steps out into the hallway, and closes the door gently behind himself. Moving down the hallway he reaches into the front pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a set of headphones. They aren’t attached to anything, but that wasn’t the point. Kris stuffs one in each ear, and then takes the other end of the cord and stuff it into the front pocket of his pants. ”If people think that you are listening to something they leave you alone, for the most part. Unless they have something important to say, or you arouse significant suspicion, you’re practically invisible. Unfortunately it doesn’t work when you are walking into a building. It does work when you are trying to sneak out. I don’t need some half-hearted congratulations from a person that had never heard my name before it came through the arena PA after I retained my title. Honestly, I don’t need a congratulations from anyone, regardless of it they know me. I don’t do this for anyone but myself and if people in the back don’t realize that, then they don’t actually know me at all. That goes for Tim. That goes for Johnny. That goes for Amy. For those first two, sure, we are part of this Nobodies group. That doesn’t tie me to them. It is just a few guys with the same problem putting a name on what they are. It’ll hurt their feelings if I mention it. If I did they would probably just refer to me like we do everyone else. The difference between me and everyone else is that I look at these guys, and see nobodies, BUT understand that they are going to be somebodies. Just like me. Nobody gives us a chance because we don’t look like bodybuilders, and don’t come from money. Tim is a second generation guy, but because of the way he looks, people think he is a janitor and write him off.” He passes through a small security choke point in the hallway, and pushes through them. The hood of his sweatshirt over his head makes the guards want to stop him to check him, but the headphones and the title on his shoulder make them guess twice. He moves through the checkpoint unbothered and shoves open the door leading into the garage area. We are the Nobodies of this industry, and of this company, and look what we are capable of. Tim made a huge entrance, and then an impact in Morocco without being in a match. I came in and won a title that nobody can take from me cleanly, or uncleanly. Maybe it is a blessing that people lost money on me tonight. If people don’t bank on us winning, and people don’t think we are threats, we can’t lose.” He gets to the rental car and throws open the door, tossing the bag and the title into the passenger seat. He looks around and then drops down into the driver’s seat, pulling the keys from his hoodie pocket. ”I don’t care what next week brings. Right now, I’m golden.

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Tunis, Tunisia
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22 May 2015 (7:12 PM)
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On-Camera [Hotel]


”Talk about throwing the Nobodies across the ring from the Somebodies, and seeing if it sells. Last week, I was leaving the show and thinking to myself. I said, Kris, one day you are going to be a somebody, and that is no different from Tim or Johnny. I grabbed a shower back at my, less than five star, hotel and fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I didn’t waste any time dwelling on the fact that another interviewer walked away from us. I didn’t consider the fact that winning a main event was a huge step forward, and now losing in the undercard would ruin all of that progress. Honestly, I didn’t even care what the match was going to end up being this week. All in all, I thought after tossing my a main event, they might just give me the night off. They wouldn’t want to give a guy that they can’t successfully market too much air time, after all. So imagine my surprise when I saw my name, and the names of my partners, across the marquee from Gabriel, Despayre, and Chris Shipman. For the record, I list them in that order because I feel like it goes most intimidating to least intimidating.”

Kris hands money to the woman behind the counter at the small booth at which he stands, and she hands him back a small wooden box. There are engravings in the sides of it. The designs are intricate, and most likely unable to be duplicated perfectly. He nods at the woman with a polite smile, and turns to the camera, holding the box up.

”Never go international without bringing pretty and unique things back home to friends and family.”

He drops his hand, and pushes the box into the front pocket of his hoodie. Despite the heat, his attire doesn’t change. The sleeves of the sweatshirt are merely pushed up, and the hood is lowered instead of on top of his head. All in all, the heat doesn’t seem to bother him at all. The only setback, or course, is that the bottom of the track marks on his arms are visible, at least for those that are closely looking for them.

”I don’t know if you people have heard, but I don’t have many friends. Shit, I don’t really have any friends. The fact that me and the rest of the Nobodies are part of the same match, as a team, is more than a little scary, without even taking a glance across to the other side of the ring. Tim tried to get one-up on Kain last week, and fell short. Johnny, hasn’t even had a match yet. If you look at that, we don’t have a chance going against these guys. These are documented, successful names that we are fighting. How long has Gabriel even held the top prize in this company? I know it is longer than I have even been here. When has Despayre had a bad match? I can’t think of one. Chris Shipman, this dude is walking around two weeks removed from one of the most brutal matches I have ever personally witnessed. Though Shipman fell short to the man I beat last week, it doesn’t change the fact that it is damn impressive that he was up and ready to go, practically the next day. All three of these men are intimidating.”

He shrugs his shoulders, and starts moving towards the camera. He doesn’t stop his approach, instead continuing past the camera as it turns and follows him off to his left. Together, they turn into an alley, not far from the booth. Kris points ahead of himself.

”My hotel is all of one hundred yards down this alley, so I am going to make this short and sweet. All of these men are documented winners. Some might actually have paid some attention to me. I doubt that anyone has much of anything to say about Johnny. My guess is any of them talking about Tim will just mention how good his father was. I am the most decorated of the bunch, and I am not giving them a lot to work with either. I guarantee you one thing, the Nobodies have had a lot more homework to do than the people we are going to be across from, and we have done just that. We know what we are going to be walking into. We know what each man is capable of. We have watched their promos, studied their matches, talked to people that have been around them for a while. The Nobodies are prepared for this match mentally. Physically, I guess we will have to see once the bell rings. In this industry, preparation is key. The guys of Seven Deadly Sins simply do not have the kind of material to work with that we do. Best case scenario, they have me scouted. I am merely one-third of the team though. I can tag out of the match and then they are in the ring with unknown and unfamiliar talent. Right now, they have the edge when it comes to history. However, we have the edge when it comes to knowing what the match is going to look like once it gets started. We can match ourselves up against the right person, for any situation. Gabriel, Despayre, and Chris are going to have to learn that on the fly. I am not going to discount them. You don’t get as noticed as they are without being able to pick things up as they happen inside the ring. What I am saying is, they have a learning curve to account for. We are the guys that come into the match with all the answers. If we can keep it short, then a lot of people are going to lose a lot of money for betting against us. The longer it drags on, the better the chances that we shoot ourselves in the foot.”

He stops walking and turns around, the camera stops short of where he is so that he is now facing it, with the hotel in plain sight just twenty or so yards from them.

”I am not saying that it is going to be easy. I am not saying that it is an inevitability. What I am saying is, come time for Climax Control, maybe you people should be ready to see the Nobodies take a step towards becoming Somebodies by taking out the man on top of the mountain. We have everything to gain. They have everything to lose. If they lose, the world will call it an upset. If we lose, everyone will call it common sense, because nobody thinks we stand a chance. It is going to be our job to make sure we prove people wrong.”

He moves forward like he is going to give the cameraman a shove, like he normally does, but stops short. The camera visibly jumps as the man braced for impact, but it was all a joke. Kris laughs lightly, and then gives a small nod, turning towards his hotel and leaving the camera behind.

45
Climax Control Archives / One Down, One To Go....
« on: May 15, 2015, 11:47:20 PM »
 A Mile High - Over The Atlantic
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4 May 2015 (5:06 PM)  
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On-Camera [Flight Back From Morocco]

The scene opens with Kris sitting in front of a laptop. There is a bright light shining onto his face, and illuminating the area in front of the screen. It doesn’t take the audience long to figure out that they are sitting in front of him on the tray attached to the seat in front of him on an airplane. The light shining on him is the small individual overhead light, that is also way too powerful, next to the air conditioning vent above him. The surroundings seem quiet, as members of the staff move up and down the aisles checking on those on the flight. Kris smiles widely at the camera and then shrugs.

”I was going to wait until I got back to the states to actually say anything to you guys, but then I figured, why wait? By the time I touch down and get settled in Los Angeles, all of you will have had days to dissect the show in Morocco, and will have undoubtedly come to your own conclusions about the result of my match. You people will say that I cheated. Some of you might say that Kain’s shot at the title was stolen away from him unfairly. Even more will likely talk about my cowardice, and the fact that I should not be proud of winning that match how I did. So why should I sit here, bored out of my mind, on this flight and not say anything? Why should I give you the satisfaction of forming your own conclusions before I tell my side of the story? I have all of the time in the world to burn right now. I think I should use it to put your comments to rest before they even begin to rain down on me.”

A stewardess stops by Kris, and he raises a hand slightly, waving her off before she can even ask if he needs anything. He rocks back in his chair, which the viewers can see is not at all like the ones in coach. He scans his surroundings for a second and then turns back to the camera.

”The only person that cheated Kain, is Kain. If you people will remember, I told him in the match where I took his title that I would do anything to take that title away from him. I said, very plainly, that if there is a shortcut in a match, I would take it. I ranted about how there was nothing that I was not willing to in order to walk out a champion. I echoed that same message in the two weeks leading up to Morocco. I emphatically reiterated the fact that there were no rules that I would leave unbroken. I forewarned Kain on three occasions  and told him to prepare for all possible scenarios. Is Kain more deadly than I am in the ring? Probably so. I don’t have any real training in this stuff. I make use of my own natural ability and wing the rest as the situations dictate. If that were the only thing that I had going, I am not a threat at all. It is the mere fact that I do not feel burdened by rules that makes me a big pain in the ass. Now, I told Kain that three times. Each time he ignored my messages. Each time he ranted on in the same way that he does every week, and we were all meant to listen to the “King of Kings” when he was talking, even though he didn’t give a shit about what we were saying.”

Kris raises both of his hands to give his previous opponent’s nickname its own hint of sarcasm. Although, instead of looking like his regular self, he seems mildly annoyed at the fact that his messages weren’t received.

”That is the reason that I am holding this title still. Sure, I could sit here and claim that Kain would not have one the title because it was going to be a countout anyways. I could say that his win would be meaningless because he wasn’t walking out of the building as a two time champion, regardless of what may or may not have happened to him at the end of the match. The fact remains though, I don’t have to make excuses, because I told him my gameplan from the very start. Some of you might think of what happened as dirty, or cheating, but is it really cheating if you tell someone that you are going to do it? I personally dont think so. I gave him the opportunity to correct his behavior. Either he was too stupid to pay attention during his little hissy fit about losing the title in the first place, or he validates my Nobody persona by saying he never paid any attention to what I said in the first place. In either case, it was his fault that he lost, not mine.”

He reaches forward, adjusting the camera on the screen so that the viewers can look around the cabin. There are individuals reading in the few seats that are filled, and a couple that are watching something on their laptops. When Kris turns the camera back towards him, he sighs.

”I think that I am going to have my money on the fact that he didn’t listen to a word that I had to say in our promos building towards Mayhem in Morocco. Why? Well, because I have been talking to you guys this whole time and not one single person has looked up from what they are doing to notice the crazy guy talking to a computer screen. My voice is apparently just as invisible as my presence. I don’t know if you guys caught that, but I literally had to fight my way into the arena, in order to fight to retain my championship. Was anyone going to cry foul if I lost? Would any of you of made the excuse that because I had to go through a security guard before my match, that if I lost I wasn’t 100% when the bell rang? Of course you wouldn’t have. Kain lost because of the person that he is. I won because of the person that I am. There is nothing more to it than that. I told Kain that if he didn’t listen, that he wouldn’t win. He didnt, and I am still sitting here champion. I don’t know who SCW is going to be throwing at me next, but let’s hope they get their listening ears on before bell time.”

Kris shrugs again, with a smile and reaches forward, tapping a button on the keyboard and killing the video feed.


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San Diego, California
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9 May 2015 (10:06 AM)  
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Off-Camera [Union Bank of California]
[Grey Italic Text is Inner Thoughts]

This may be the first time that Jason has ever been a passenger in my car. I can’t help but feel like it is entirely my fault too. Honestly, I am surprised that Elena didn’t lay into me when she got here. I knew my father was dead two days ago. I made an excuse to be in San Diego so that nobody would question exactly why I was taking a day trip down here. I didn’t tell him. I wasn’t going to tell him. Not yesterday. Not today. Not ever. The car pulls off of the highway, and Kris looks over at his older brother, who stares blankly out the window. The bruising on his face was still pretty bad and his right arm was in a sling. It was easy to tell by his labored breathing that the inside of his body was beaten up pretty bad as well. However, just looking at the expression on his face would have led people that didn’t know him to think otherwise. To them, it may look like he was even in mourning, but that wasn’t really true either. When they called me and told me, they asked if there were any other relatives that they needed to contact regarding his death, and I had lied and said that there were none. I suppose legally it was a lie, at least. In reality, this man had been dead to us for two decades already. Normally people hide things because they want to protect someone from grief. That isn’t why I did it though, but I couldn’t hope to explain that to Jason. When I got the phone call, I was relieved for all of one second. Then it hit me. The person, that I had focused every shred of hate that I felt for this world was gone. I couldn’t wish all of the hateful things on him that had normally gotten me through the day anymore. It was just nothingness. What am I going to do with all of this rage now? Who knows. I will figure it out at some point. Jason though, he has family. He has a pregnant wife, a slew of stepchildren, and more than a handful of people around him that he holds close. If I took away the outlet of his hate, how much would that shorten his fuse for the people that are left around him? I didn’t want this dead bastard to take anything else away from us. If Jason thinking he was still alive was going to give him that one thing to drive all of his negativity towards, than I was willing to shoulder this on my own. I was sparing his family from having to deal with that. However, Jason always finds a way.

The black sportscar whips around a few turns, and onto a main road. Jason sighs, and then grimaces in pain. He readjusts his position in the chair while Kris acts like he doesn’t notice. Jason flipped out and drove down here angry. That anger that I didn’t want him to have to blow off on anyone else, got hurled at his car. I couldn’t even hazard a guess at how much money he dropped into it. Even worse, I didn’t want to think about how many different things on it probably made it illegal to drive. He blew through the wrong red light, trying to catch it on a yellow, and now it doesn’t matter how nice that car was. It flipped, and then slid on the roof a few dozen feet while spinning in circles. The driver that hit him was driving a truck that was built like a city bus, so of course he was okay. Jason was flying around in a little tin can of a car. It was totaled. When the newspaper got hold of the pictures yesterday, it was hard for people that saw them to accept that he was actually unhurt, for the most part. Yet, since I arrived at the scene, all the way up to this moment, I have not seen him appear even slightly angry. He just seems, complacent… and I am not sure if that is better. After crossing an intersection the car turns right, into a parking lot, and pulls into a space. The large building in front of them is the single place that the lawyer had mentioned as part of the will. It was a bank, inside which was a safety deposit box. It was all that was left of their father. Kris kills the engine of the car, and looks over at Jason. The lock eyes, and the older of the two brothers nods and they reach for the door handles at the same time. The sun hits their eyes and both of them squint towards the Union Bank of California, with hesitant looks on their faces. Kris shuts his door, looking down at the center console as he does, the box of ashes from their father’s cremation sitting inside. We didn’t even have a service for him. Nobody would have come, and if anyone did, it would have likely just been a person in the wrong place at the wrong time, looking for some other dead person. We didn’t have anything to say about him. When the guy at the crematorium said that he could say a few words, Jason gave him a look that told him all he needed to know. The lawyer waited outside while the two of us sat there, watching through the grate as our father was burned to ash. I don’t know about Jason, but it was something that I had waited to see for almost twenty years. In my most pleasant dreams, I was sitting there in front of that furnace, watching flames rip him apart. It was a lot more satisfying actually getting to be awake for it.

The two head towards the door of the bank, with Kris reaching out to take the handle, and holding it open for Jason who uses his only movable arm to reach into his pocket and produce a key. The lady behind the counter greets us with a welcoming smile, and before she can open her mouth, Jason holds up the key. Her eyes catch it and she moves to pull up the correct screen on her computer for us to gain access to the box.

Bank Teller
What is the name on the safety deposit box sir?


Jason places the key on the table in front of her, and then slides it across, not fielding the question. He had made a promise to himself a long time ago, that the name would never again come out of his mouth. Kris wasn’t so theatrical about his hate though.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
William James Halich.


The teller nods and punches the keys on her board, pulling up their father’s account. She reaches across the table, and takes the key, matching the numbers on it to the numbers on file and then muttering the actual number to the box under her breath a few times to get it right. She starts to move down the counter.

Bank Teller
If you two would just follow me. I can take you right to it.


Kris holds his hand out in front of himself, motioning for Jason to lead the way. He passes Kris and tails the teller from behind the counter to a room next to the actual vault of the bank. She first unlocks the gate leading into the room with a set of keys attached to her hip, and then moves to the actual box. She unlocks it, and pulls the container from the wall, placing it on the table in the middle of the room. It is no more than eight inches wide, and probably two feet deep. She places the key in the lock of the box and nods at the two of them.

Bank Teller
Well, I will leave you two gentlemen to it then….


She awkwardly steps in between the two and then out the door. She doesn’t head immediately back to her position on the counter though. Instead, she takes a seat at the end of the counter, just out of range of hearing and line of sight of the room. Clearly, she aims to lock everything back up once they are done. The brothers pay her no further attention though, moving to opposite sides of the table. Kris reaches out and turns the key on the box, and takes a deep breath. Noticing his hesitation, Jason finally finds his words.

♥Jason Halich♥
What’s the problem, Kris? You aren’t actually concerned about whatever is going to be in it are you? Lets just get this over with and put it behind us. This is the last time that we do anything for him.


Kris looks down at the box, and can’t find the willpower to turn the key. He reaches out for it again, and pulls it from the box and places it on top of it.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I don’t want to know.


Jason’s face wrinkles up in confusion. He shakes his head a few times before he can produce any words.

♥Jason Halich♥
What don’t you want to know? I mean we already know everything about this piece of shit that we could ever hope to hear. Nothing in this box is going to change any of that. I say we clear it out, find a dumpster on the way back to the car, and toss all of it without consideration. What is the problem with that?


Kris puts both of his fists, knuckles down, on the table and presses them into it hard to suppress his rage. Once he feels like he can talk without raising his voice, he does so. His eyes meet Jason’s before a sound can pass through his lips, and when he does speak, his tone is calm and collected.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
I don’t even want to be his trash man, Jason. Come on! You got in a car wreck last night stressing out over this asshole. I honestly could not hate him more than I already do, and I know that you feel the same way. You have a pregnant wife waiting on you at your hotel. You have Haley practically about to pop a baby out in Seattle right now. What is opening this container going to do for either of us?


The look of confusion doesn’t leave his face. He shrugs again.

♥Jason Halich♥
I don’t know what you are trying to say, Kris. You are going to have to give me more than that.


♧Kristopher Halich♧
I see the contents of this box going two ways. Either we open it, and the bullshit in here just reinforces our understanding of this man, or it doesn’t. We could open this box and see the child abusing, molesting, cheating, drunken psycho that we both hate, or it could be something else completely. My question is, why bother?


The confusion finally starts to fade from Jason’s face and he nods. He thinks it over for a second and then a half smile forms on his face.

♥Jason Halich♥
What you are saying is, there is nothing bad enough in this box that could make us hate him anymore than we already do. At the same time, if there is something in this box that is a positive, then it is going to fuck up your whole picture of him. Instead, you are saying that you are content to hate him forever.


Kris doesn’t hesitate to nod in agreement.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
Is that going to be a problem for you?


Jason picks up the key from the top of the container and looks at it. He turns it around in his hand a few times before coming to some sort of realization.

♥Jason Halich♥
I don’t want to know either. You know, I can remember back to when times weren’t so bad. If I had to guess, you can do that too. However, after all of the things that he did to us, all of the abuse, all of the nights that we didn’t have power on at the house, or food to eat, none of it matters to me. No matter what little piece of goodness I can pull out of my memory, it doesn’t come close to making a dent in the hatred I have for him, Kris. So, you’re right. We could open this box and a fucking rainbow could come out of it. It will never be enough. We can add up all of those scattered memories and it wouldn’t change a thing. Why would we open it and give him the opportunity to make us doubt the person that he is, even for just a second. Fuck him, Kris. You’re right. I don’t even want to give him the benefit of taking his shit to the dumpster.


Kris nods, and looks around the room. For once the two of them were in agreement over something that actually matter. It had been a while and was a strange feeling. Maybe watching their father burst into flames like he was being welcomed to hell with open arms was a bonding moment for them. Then the realization hits Kris, and he looks at Jason for a response.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
So how exactly do we go about doing that?


Jason opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then scratches the side of his head with the key to the box. He moves around the table, and then out of the room, stopping near the lady that had allowed them to go in.

♥Jason Halich♥
What do you guys do with boxes that never get claimed? Like people die, no relatives, no living will, that kind of thing. Do they just sit there forever or what?


The woman turns, and her eyes widen a bit. She bites down on her bottom lip in thought, and then comes up with the only response she can think of.

Bank Teller
Inevitably, everything inside the box would be destroyed. The boxes are rented and the annual charges come out of the attached account. If the account becomes delinquent for nonpayment, then it gets sent to a collections office. If no response is received, such as in the death of a person without anyone left to manage their estate, we basically destroy everything in it.


Jason turns to Kris and shrugs, his eyes questioning Kris to see if he thinks it is reasonable. Kris nods and comes the rest of the way out of the room. He stands next to his brother and looks down at the woman with a smile.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
Then I think we are done here, thank you.


Jason closes his fist around the key, and the two move away from the door as the woman looks inside and sees the box still on the table, untouched. She moves inside, as the two brothers make their way to the door, and exit the bank. Just outside, there is a small garbage bin, and Jason drops the key inside of it and then pats Kris on the shoulder.

♥Jason Halich♥
That bastard is officially gone now. No loose ends. He can’t get at us now.


Kris laughs, but it is uneasy. He turns and looks at his brother as they walk over to the car, his tone low and serious when the words come out of his mouth.

♧Kristopher Halich♧
One down… one to go.


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Algeria
♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
15th May 2015 (5:47 PM)  
♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
On-Camera [Side Streets]


The sun is beating down hard on the pavement. It creates a blinding effect on the camera as the glare comes from both the sky above, and the reflection off the ground. Kris is center frame, walking along yet another back alley in another foreign country. However, today he has chosen to forego the hoodie. Just in looking at him, viewers can see why. Sweat is rolling down his cheeks from under his sunglasses. His hair is disselved, likely from heat as well. He starts to walk as the camera starts to roll, and forces the cameraman to follow at his side.

"I knew that I would hear it. I tried to stop it before it got rolling. People spouted off with the same nonsense anyways. It seems like everyone is jumping on the Kain bandwagon. I am not going to be bitter about it though. It could be worse. I could be standing here in front of you about to face Kain for the third consecutive time if management decided it was profitable enough. Apparently beating a guy for his title, and then having a title defense end in a no contest is not very conclusive. It doesn’t much matter to me though. Around the time that the show ends on Sunday, all anyone is going to be saying about Kain is how some young kid beat his ass, and how he never should have been in the title hunt if he lets things like that happen to him. He will be embarrassed. I might not have to step in the ring with that mouth breather ever again. His career may be headed straight down the shitter. I will just be happy to be the one that kicked it in that direction. Soon enough, my critics will long forget the time that Kain was champion. He is just going to go down in the books as the guy that held the title until the day they gave me a shot. Then again, I am a Nobody, so maybe he won’t make the record books at all, considering I probably won’t make the cut."

He continues to move down the alley, grazing his hand along the wall of the backside of the buildings as he goes, similar to what he did in Morocco.

"I signed up to SCW because I hated traveling around the United States with the company that my brother started. I really just wanted to chill in one general area. Touring the world is probably my least favorite part of this gig, but I still manage to find places that I feel at home in. I mean, you people have noticed that I am always surrounded by the same kind of things here. I am always in an alley. I am always surrounded by the regular people of society. It is good to know that things, no matter where you are, do not have to change. I just wanted to make the trip up to Vegas once a week to do my thing. I guess I should have read the part of the contract that said I had to tour the world all year. I was never one to stress over details though. It hasn’t stopped me from doing my thing though. If you guys have been paying attention, I have to be one of those names that is on the top of the SCW newcomers or break-outs lists. However, again, Nobody status kind of says that won’t be the case. Not that I am not okay with that. I get it. I don’t have the look that people in this industry look for and I am not one to go out in insane matches every week and bloody myself beyond recognition. Contrary to popular belief, I am damn good looking, in my own opinion. I don’t really want to get disfigured. I mean, otherwise I would never be able to convince security that I am not just a janitor or stage hand."

He stops and leans against the wall, facing the camera. He pulls the aviator sunglasses off of his face, and smiles.

"You know me, always one for segways into what I actually want to talk about. This week, that person is Goth. See, blood and brutality seem like they are this guy’s bread and butter, and now he gets a shot at the SCW Internet Championship. To be completely honest, the things that happened in SCW before I showed up are kind of a mystery to me. Sure, I am picking up some of the pieces as I go along, but they are few and far between. This guy Goth had one hell of a match in Morocco. Like, when I first saw that I was booked against him, I was scared. The dude lost a ton of blood, took a heavy beating, and still put a guy through a table to win a match. That is not something that I see myself as personally capable of doing. I like to pride myself on being a guy that is hard to put down, but the amount of blood left in the ring was kind of scary. Naturally, coming off a match like that the guy can’t be 100% but, this is a triple crown champion we are talking about. They are effectively standing a Nobody in the way of a guy hitting the Grand Slam. Am I not allowed to say that I am intimidated, or scared? Scary performance in Morocco inside the ring, and all of the accomplishments that I will probably never reach in this company make for a terrifying matchup."

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth as his eyes widen as much as they can. He takes a moment, looking towards the ground, appearing to doubt himself. However, after just a moment, he looks up, a smile on his face.

"I am allowed to be intimidated, and I certainly… was."

He clasps his hands in front of his chest and kind of rubs them back and forth a little, finding a mental rhythm for the words he is about to unload.

"Was. Past tense. As in not any more. See, I looked at the guy’s accomplishments. Those are kind of intimidating. I looked at his last match. That was downright terrifying. Imagine the hesitation I faced when it came to watching the guy’s promos. I should be shitting my pants in terror, right? Wrong. I had to sit through ten minutes of this guy bitching about how he is a drunk, nearly blind, shell of someone who used to be decent. In fact, going into the match the guy’s only request was that his opponent put him out of his misery. This is the kind of person that we are handing title shots to now? I mean, I am not going to complain because they handed one to me, and I am a Nobody. At least I own it though. I come out here and talk, knowing that there aren’t going to be many people that listen to what I have to say. I go out there in the ring knowing that there are probably hundreds of people in attendance, and thousands watching that are taking a piss break. I don’t whine and complain about it. I don’t come out and say that since I am so irrelevant, someone should just cripple me to get me off the roster. In fact, I actually told Kain last show that if he did cripple me, I would still come down to the ring in a wheelchair with a computer to talk for me. I told Kain, and I told however many of you fans listened, that even if I was a broken, crippled, shell of the Nobody I am today, I would still show up. I didn’t beg for someone to put me out of my misery. Why? Because I have the balls to do it myself. Don’t believe? Google search my name around last Christmas when they brought me back to life against my will in December."

Kris shakes his head and pushes away from the wall, stepping close to the camera. Typically this is the time that he does his signature push to topple the camera man and walk away as the camera breaks on the ground, but instead he puts his face right in it, and stares into the lens like he can see Goth watching him through it.

”I may never be as accomplished as you. I may never be as hardcore as you in that ring. I may never be recognized on the street for the person that I am. However, the thing that raises me above you is that I actually want to be here. It sounds like you want to be face down in a bowl of soup, bleeding all over a table. Either that, or maybe in some drunken coma in a ditch on the side of the road on a rainy night when a dude just happens to overcorrect and head your direction. I bet you wouldn’t even see that coming. [laugh] You are going to talk about how you are going to take this from me. I can tell by what I watched you say to Shipman that you can’t take it. You don’t actually want it because you don’t actually want to be here. On the other hand, I want to carry the SCW Internet Championship because every moment that I do, a Nobody has a chance to be a somebody. You are a relic. You are irrelevant in your present state. You won’t be 100% come time for this match, and even if you were, you don’t want it bad enough to take the title from me. By design, by cheat, or by dumb luck, I am going to beat you. If you want, maybe I will put you out of your misery afterwards if you ask nicely.”

If the cameraman rested easy when Kris came close, and didn’t issue him a shove, he certainly felt stupid now. Kris shoves the camera with both hands, and harder than ever before. The camera moves straight back, and the impact of both the man, and the camera can be heard against the wall before the lens dips and the camera impacts the ground, cutting the feed to black.

46
Climax Control Archives / A Nobody
« on: April 10, 2015, 11:58:27 PM »
 10 April 2015
=============
Milan, Italy
=============
Off-Camera


[Inner Thoughts]
Amy was not lying in the least when she tweeted that

she kicked my ass in the gym today. She hits as hard as a guy that is

three times her size, and has a zero moral compass when it comes to

someone like me asking her to hurt me. Maybe I reached out to her the

other day because, in the back of my head, I already knew this. Maybe it

was just that she was really the only thing close to a friend that I had

in SCW. It seems like the rest of everyone on the roster, and now even

the interviewers, have written me off already. I couldn't get a word in

after Delia cut my interview off. I did not even get a simple "Sorry

Kris, I have to go. Good luck in your match!" from Stoner, even though

he has been the one guy in the back I have talked to for every single

interview, on every Climax Control, since I started in this company.



As he steps off of the elevator, he looks around. From hotel

to hotel, country after country, he could never remember which way his

room was. In all honesty, he never really spent any time in them

anyways. It was a place for sleeping, nothing else. Being stuck in a

room day after day, and minute after minute, seemed like a waste when

they were visiting places on this world tour that he had never been to,

and probably would not get to see again. He looks down at the room

keycard in his hand and nods, then looks up at the sign in front of him

to make sure he is on the right floor before turning in the direction of

his room. For some reason, he always got stuck at the end of the

hallway. He was nearly always on the opposite end of the ice machine and

vending machines, and about as far away from the central hallway

elevators as he could possibly be. It was just his luck that this was no

different, even in Italy.


To be honest, for the first few weeks, it didn't even

bother me. I mean, I went into that Roulette Championship match billing

myself as an unknown. I told everyone that it was going to be to my

advantage to do so. Unfortunately, I was terribly wrong in that

assumption. What made it worse was being put through that damn dumpster.

Is there a more embarassing way to lose a match? I mean really. That is

why I needed Amy this time around. Aside from all the flirtation, that

is in no way mild, she knew this business better than anyone. She knows

what it means to hold a title, and has done so. I am pretty sure she has

won most of them in SCW, but I don't know. I haven't been around long

enough to pick up on all of the history, and studying it for curiosity

would just be a waste of time when I could take a train and see things

that I have only seen in the textbooks from high school. Fucking high

school man, that feels like forever ago. Seven years... and where did

they go?


He shakes the thought out of his head as he reaches his door

at the end of the hallway. He turns the key card over in his hand before

figuring out the way it slides into the door. He does so and the light

flashes red a few seconds before it goes green and the lock clicks open.

The door isn't even fully closed behind him before he reaches down for

the bottom edge of his shirt and pulls it off, despite every muscle in

his body straining and telling him not to.


This soreness will heal up before the match. Amy had

really followed through with what she promised. I threw every move that

I have in my arsenal at her. We planned through every circumstance in

which I would use any move that I typically do in a match, and I had her

counter every single one of them. I told her what was coming, and I told

her to not hold back when it came to stopping me from doing it. The

bruises? Those will stick around. I guess I should be thankful that I

wear those long , form-fitting shirts in my matches to hide the track

marks. It will help to mask the bruises so that they don't become

targets for this Internet Champion to wail on as soon as the bell rings.

There was a point to this kind of training that I couldn't get from

scouting, watching matches, or watching this guy's promos. Doing all of

that will help me beat him, but will not help me beat myself. It is all

about improvement. It is all about knowing what it is I am going to try

in the match, and knowing the feeling that it is going to go wrong. It

is not about being able to take a punch, or a kick, or some technical

move. I can take a beating pretty well, I learned that before I was even

seven. I can get up from those beatings. What I can't do, is see my

errors before I make them. That is what Amy did for me today. For every

step I made, she showed me how someone would counter.... and by show me,

I mean put me on my ass in the middle of the ring, holding whatever body

part she targeted as the pain flowed through my body. How many times

did she knock the breath out of me? I wouldn't dare try to count. How

many times did she make me tap out? More than I will ever admit to

anyone. How much did I grow as a competitor? I guess that I will have to

wait and see on Sunday.


He moves across the room and tosses his shirt on the couch.

There was a weird quiet in the room. Normally Clarissa was there with

him, but she had other obligations. When your interviewing job keeps you

in the states, your clients are left to their own devices in a foreign

country. Sure, she would call him an hour or so before the show. She

would hit him with the pep talk she thinks he needs. At the end of the

day though, she isn't here so it didn't matter. He wasn't going to dwell

on it for a second. He kicks off his training shoes, putting them in

front of the couch and moving towards the bathroom.


If I walk into that match and I lose, who knows when

the next title shot comes around? Someone in management is clearly

paying attention to me, or else I wouldn't have gotten two title shots

within a month of each other. That, at the very least, means that

someone in the company is paying attention, and liking what they see.

Does that voice drown out the rest of the others in my head? Absolutely

not. Is that going to make the roster take notice of me? Probably not. I

know that most of the roster probably doesn't sit in front of a computer

screen and watch everyone else's promos every week. I didn't used to,

but I did for the last couple shows. Something that Krissy said before

facing Roxi the third time has stuck with me since. She said winning the

Internet Championship is a career death sentence. Now, I am in this

match, and I am torn. On one hand, I have failed twice in this company

when gold was on the line, and once in another company. I want nothing

more than to break that curse and get that voice in the back of my head

to shut up when it tells me that I will choke every time. One the other

hand, maybe it would actually hinder me if I did win. I haven't been

able to shake that thought, no matter how hard I have tried. Will people

think of me as a mediocre champion, if I win it? Is that any better than

people not thinking about me at all? If I had to ask a random person on

the street if they would rather be faceless in a crowd, or seen as below

average, what would they say? I haven't found the answer myself. Maybe

someone can find it for me.


He looks in the bathroom mirror, taking inventory of the

bruises on his back. They were already going from the puffy red swelling

from first contact, to ever-darkening circles. The one on his left side,

from when he had spring-boarded off the middle rope, looking for a

roundhouse kick, but being speared out of the air by a woman a little

under half his side was already a shade of green, well on its way to

purple. There were only three days before the show. Was that enough time

for it to stop being sensitive? Maybe so. Maybe not. He turns around,

and reaches behind the curtain of the shower, turning the dial until the

water that poured from the faucet was lukewarm. A cold shower sounded

painful. A warm shower felt like it would just make the swelling worse.

He drops his work-out shorts, checking a second mark on the back of his

right thigh. He had set up for the SmackShot and taken down hard knees

to the back of his leg. Coming off a full forward rotation, the blow had

put him on his back and broken one of the straps of his knee brace.

Before removing his boxers to get in, he noticed the lack of towels in

the vicinity. Italy hotels were silly like that, or at least this one

appeared to be. They were in the bedroom closet. He exits the bathroom,

leaving the shower running, and tosses his shorts onto the couch next to

his shirt.


Faceless or not, it is going to be a huge setback if I

lose this match. I am not going to be dumb enough to tell them that this

time in my promo this time. I went in doubtful and then when I lost,

they all had a reason to laugh. I am done with that shit. If I lose, I

am going to lose after ripping a guy to shreds. That makes sense, right?

Here I am, beaten and bruised from trying make sure I can tear him to

shreds inside a ring. Why would I give him the benefit of not doing that

to him if he actually watches my little promo video. Sure, those things

are mainly for the fans. I doubt most of the roster pays them any mind.

However, if this guy is dumb enough to watch it, I want that little

nugget of doubt to creep into his head. I used to think that I didn't

care about the mental game. Maybe I only care a little now because my

skill inside a ring hasn't been up to par. This week, I am going to

change that, even if that is the only thing that I manage to do.



He turns from the couch with a smile. Even if they were just

his own words in his head, that nobody would ever hear, he felt better

talking himself through it. It is a short distance from the small living

area to the bedroom, and he pushes the door open. It is only then that

he realizes that he hasn't been alone in the room the whole time, as he

had thought. He hadn't been alone at all.


JASON HALICH:I was starting to think that

maybe they let me into the wrong room.

Jason was sitting back on the bed. His hands were folded

across his lap, with his legs up on the bed as he leaned against the

headboard. There was that smug smile on his face that seemed to always

appear when he was getting the better of someone. Kris couldn't have

been able to recreate his own reaction. The shock of his brother being

there, in a foreign country no less, caught him completely off guard.

For a few moments he stutters over words, before remembering their last

exchange. At once Kris' face grows dark. The smile fades from his face.

The thoughts that he had been walking himself through since he entered

the room where now the furthest thing from his mind.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: What are you doing in

Milan? Better yet, don't you have a family to be taking care of back in

Los Angeles? I told you more than once already, we aren't friends, we

aren't brothers. Get out of my room.

Jason's expression doesn't change. It was like he had

already walked through this conversation in his head before Kris even

arrived. The younger Halich's words don't catch him by surprise, or

offend him at all. His voice comes out just as smug as his expression.



JASON HALICH: I am pretty sure that a DNA

test would say that we are brothers, as for friends, we are a lot more

than that. I get that you are pissed right now, but you will come

around, you always do. I just wanted to see how you were holding up. You

were kind of being a little bitch last time we talked. You're going into

a title match now, I figured I would make sure your mind was right.

Kris rolls his eyes and moves to the closet. He pulls it

open, trying to mask the aggression that was flowing through him. He

reaches up to the top shelf and grabs a towel, before shutting the door

gently. He leans back against the door once it is closed, but doesn't

give his brother the benefit of looking at him.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: I'm fine. More than

fine, even. I am great. I am fucking ecstatic. I am a real ball of

amazing, Jason. Now get out. That flight back to LA will be a killer.

Jason holds up his hands in front of his chest, palms facing

Kris. It is a plea of innocence. Of course, Kris knew it meant that he

didn't want to fight.


JASON HALICH: Listen Kris, honestly, I

wanted to come and apologize. You won't return a text, or answer a

phone. I didn't want the apology to fall on deaf ears either. You

deserved for me to come here and talk to you, even if you don't want to

talk to me. So if you listen, and let me say what I have to say, I will

get out of your way, and get back on my flight to Los Angeles tonight.

It is worth two days of flying to be able to tell you this to your face.

Kris shakes his head. The knuckles on his right hand go

white with how hard he grips the towel. If he was going to try and keep

his emotions off of his face, he was going to need to take it out on

something. Luckily for the towel, it didn't have feelings.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: Alright then Jason, say

what you have to say. You have five minutes.

JASON HALICH: That is more than enough, as

long as you don't turn this into a screaming match. If you act like a

bitch, then you are going to have to allow me some more time.

Kris would blame Jason's asshole sense of humor on the fact

that he had made a great life for himself. He would like to say that his

dick attitude came after all of the successes of his adult life.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Jason had learned sarcasm around

the time that Kris started to be able to vividly remember things as a

child. Jason had always been like this. If anything, he had lightened up

over time.


KRISTOPHER HALICH: By my count, you just

wasted about thirty seconds of your five minutes,and you still have yet

to get to a point worth listening to.

It was odd. Kris didn't realize that the same tone that

Jason just used to irritate him, just came out of his own mouth. It was

the same kind of sarcastic jab. He almost despised himself because of

it.


JASON HALICH: Point taken. I won't

bullshit you then. You have no right to be mad about Elena, or any of

her kids, or my adopting Gabby. It is childish. You are an adult. What

do you want me to do, adopt you now? That ship as sailed Kris. Would it

have worked back when it was just me and you in San Diego? Maybe. I

don't think that a judge would have granted an eighteen year old kid

full custody of a thirteen year old. At best, they would have opened a

child abuse case, and they would have sent you to some orphanage. We had

absentee parents. We had a home that was just above being condemned that

was filled with more empty beer bottles than it was items of food. They

would have sent you away if we tried to do anything about the situation.

Would that have really helped anything? In that house, after a while,

and yeah, there were a few years that it got really bad, but by the time

you were fifteen or sixteen, it was more or less just the two of us in

that house. You weren't my kid legally, but I have always thought of you

as a shit load more important than just a brother. I know that,

somewhere inside that thick head of yours, you know that.

Kris had to turn his head to look away now. Averting his

eyes wasn't going to be enough to keep the emotion off of his face. He

turned away, simply to hide his face, and when he tried to form words,

he had to stop because he knew they weren't going to come out as cool

and collected as he wanted them to. He wouldn't be able to just blow

that off. Everything that he knew, but had pushed to the back of his

head suddenly flooded over all of the irrational bullshit, and hatred,

that he created in the last few months. Jason hesitated for a few

moments, but then the realization set in that Kris wasn't going to

respond to him. He sighs heavily, and pulls his legs off of the bed, now

looking at the floor. The sarcastic tone in his voice fades and is

replaced by one of genuine sorrow.


JASON HALICH: I fucked up Kris. I should

have told you the minute that I knew Elena was pregnant. Honestly, we

were keeping it quiet, and still haven't mentioned it to anyone other

than immediately family, in case she loses it. It was a way of

protecting her, not cutting you out. That isn't an excuse though. Elena

told Amari on the same day, and if I had to guess, she was the one that

told you. You are the only one that would really understand her feelings

on that. I mean, I am sure you two kind of felt the same about it. I saw

the way that she trashed Elena's office after she got the news. I have

been scared to mention it because I had no idea what you would do.

He pauses, and shakes his head in disappointment. Kris turns

just far enough to be able to see it out of the corner of his eye. If he

had any doubts about his brother's sincerity, they washed away when he

saw that gesture. Although, he still couldn't find the words to say what

it was that he felt he needed to say, and Jason didn't look like he was

finished yet either. If Kris were to cut him off now, he may never know

what else he had to say. They did not have moments like these often. In

fact, Kris could count them on one hand.


JASON HALICH: Look, Kris, we already had

so many problems. You were already pissed about the adoption. You were

pissed that Elena and I got married so quickly. You thought I was moving

on without you. It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that it

isn't true, I can't change the way you feel. That is up to you to do.

Jason brushes off his pants and then stands up from the bed.

He walks over to Kris and puts a hand on his shoulder. That is really

the only time that Kris becomes self-conscious about the track marks on

his arms. It was this kind of closeness that he had been conditioned to

be terrified of.


JASON HALICH: The only thing that I can do

is apologize for all of it. I take responsibility for everything. I

changed my whole life around, and you were practically treated like any

other person in the world that doesn't know me. I didn't talk to you, so

it was like you were anyone on my roster. I treated you like I knew your

name, but didn't give a damn about you personally. I'm sorry little

brother. You deserved better. You have every reason to be pissed off

because I treated you like that. When I came to you last week, I hadn't

stopped to think about it from your perspective. I came at you angry. I

didn't try to understand you.

Kris holds back his words. Anything that he had to say right

now would be clouded. If he said that he wasn't angry anymore, it would

be a lie. If he said that it was alright, it might not be once he has

time to stew about it when Jason was gone. The way he felt in this

moment was not going to be indicative of how he would feel after he had

time to process everything. He wanted nothing more than to hug his

brother and say that none of it mattered, but he didn't want to wish he

could take it back later. So, instead, he said nothing. He bit his

bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. He tries as hard as he can to

muster some of the sarcasm in his voice from earlier.



KRISTOPHER HALICH: Good Jason. Great. By my

count though, your five minutes is up. I have a shower to take and

people to meet for dinner. If you don't mind.

Jason nods, and pulls his hand back. Kris motions towards

the door for him to go, and Jason doesn't hesitate to start moving

towards it. Most of Kris' brain was telling him to stop his brother and

just bury the buillshit, but he was never good at listening to that part

of himself. He was always one to listen to the little devil on his

shoulder. It was part of the reason he titled himself as the,

"Professional Addict Fuck-Up" on Twitter. He follows his brother out of

the room, and the two make their way through the small living area. As

Jason reaches the door, he does turn to Kris, who is heading into the

bathroom.


JASON HALICH: Don't overthink this match,

Kris. I have no business butting in, but I want you to know that I have

been paying attention to your matches. I even when as far as to look at

his. If you let all this outside bullshit fall off your shoulders for

the fifteen or so minutes in between those bells, then there is no way

that you don't walk out with your first title. When you do, and I mean

the exact moment you do, I will be sending you a text message

congratulating you. What I won't say then, is what I am going to say

now, I am damn proud of you, win or lose. Good luck. Make sure our last

name walks out a champion.

Kris raises his head to meet his brother's eyes, but says

nothing. He offers a small smile and a nod, which was more than Jason

had expected. He returns the smile before stepping out of the door and

closing the door gently behind himself. Kris stood there for a second,

just trying to wrap his head around the whole conversation while he

listened to the water running in the bathroom. For a few moments he

stood there before a worried look crossed his face and he ducks into the

bathroom, hoping there is some kind of warmness left in the water.



=======================================================================
=======================================================================
=======================================================================
=======================================================================

11 April 2015
======================
Milan, Italy 4:45 AM
======================
On-Camera: Back Alleys


The video opens as usual. Buildings pass by on Kris' right

side as the camera follows him from the left. The only thing different,

despite the cool air, is the lack of the hoodie that he typically buries

his arms into the pockets of, and hides his face in. He hadn't really

considered it when he told the cameraman it was time to roll, but now

that the video was rolling, he couldn't help but think it made him look

more open.


"Normally I do these things and I talk my opponent up a

little bit. That is something that you don't really see a lot from a guy

like me. I am not someone that is particularly liked. I am not the kind

of guy that plays on your feelings. I don't care if you respect what I

say, or if you don't. I can't make up your mind for you. However, back

to the point, I am not going to be talking up Kain, the current SCW

Internet Champion. Now, if you are actually paying attention to the

words that are coming out of my mouth, you are undoubtedly asking, "Why

is that, Kris?" and understandably so. To put it simply, the people that

have come before me in the ring, normally speak to their strengths. If

they have been doing nothing but winning, they talk about being

unbeaten. If it is someone that is a veteran, the talk about how much

their experience will give them an edge. When I stepped up against the

current Roulette Champion, he told me that I could not win because I

really didn't know what it takes to win a championship. All of things,

even what Alex said about me, are true. They are factual. I cannot bring

myself in front of all of you to dispute something that is fact. Yes,

people that are undefeated for a reason, it is because nobody has been

able to figure them out in the ring, and that is impressive for those

that have been at it for months at a time. Yes, most of the people on

this roster are ten times as experienced than I am in this business.

Yes, Alex, you were absolutely right. I have no idea what it feels like

to win a championship. Every time that I have tried to win a title, I

have fallen short. I do not know what it is like to hold a belt up,

knowing that it is mine. All of these things have been said to me since

I came to SCW. All of these things are true. From what I have seen from

Kain, I have zero reasons to talk him up."


Kris rounds a corner, out of the alley and onto one of the

main roads. As he moves past a building, two individuals sitting on a

ledge just above the sidewalk jump down, onto the sidewalk behind Kris

and start to walk behind him.


"Kain you call yourself the King of Kings. You step up and

rant and rave at a videocamera, but you do nothing. You don't move

around, you don't make gestures to prove your point. You are a man alone

in a room talking to himself. What exactly makes you a King of Kings?

Honestly, in watching your matches, in listening to your long and, and I

don't mean this as an insult but a statement of fact, boring promos, I

cannot come up with one thing that you are a king of. I guess an

argument can be made that you are the king of the Internet, but I bet

there are tens of millions of people that would let you know just how

stupid that claim is. That makes you no king. The fact that you think

you are a king OF kings is even more laughable. I want you to think

about the Roulette Championship, the tag team championships, or even the

SCW Championship. Are you, as the Internet Champion, the king of all of

those kingdoms? In short, absolutely not. As far as I am concerned, and

Krissy Flip said it to Roxi after she won the same title you hold, but

for the bombshells, you are a champion of those viewed as the bottom

rung. Your title does not have history. Your title does not hold

prestiege. At least not at this point. You are not a king of kings. You

are not even just a regular king. You are an idiot, standing in front of

a camera, boring the life out of anyone that wastes their ten

minutes."


Kris passes another building. Outside of the door leading inside are three men. They see the camera, and the man walking next to it and join them, walking behind the previous two. The camera moves forward a little on Kris' side, showing the five men now following him, with their hoods of their sweatshirts up over their heads, shading their faces.

"Hopefully, and I say hopefully because I would hate to know that thousands of others wished they had their ten minutes back after watching your promos, not many people actually pay you any attention. After all, people on this roster don't know who I am, and yet here I am with my second title shot. I guess I am hoping, for their sake, that you are equally ignored. On the other hand, I did mention that I watched them. When I did, a few things stuck out to me. One of the things you said in your last match was that a champion, and more specifically you, should be someone that people look up to. People should see you holding that belt above your head and think to themselves that they want to grow up and be like you. For those that are older than you, you would have them think back on their lives and wish they could alter their path in order to have been like you. You want to be a rolemodel and in saying that about yourself, you undermine what it is to be that kind of person. You put yourself on a pedestal. You talk down to everyone around you. You think that you are better, and that people should mold themselves around you. I am sorry to tell you, but that is something that other people have to say about you. You don't get to raise yourself up to that level just because your inflated ego."

Again the group pass a building. This time there are five men standing at the entrance, and as the growing flock behind Kris moves, they blend into the pack. Moments later, while Kris finds his words, another group of five joins him, and then two more.

[clolor=yellow]"The other thing that I noticed was that you said the internet, and therefore their champion, is something that is "fresh, new and original" each time you look at it. In looking at your body of work, I don't see any of those things. You rehash the exact same lines each time you talk. You speak alone in front of a camera instead of being out in this world. There is nothing fresh about you. As the weeks go by, there is less and less original about you as well. As far as I can tell, the only thing that I can agree with you on, is that the Internet Champion should be new."[/color]

The group of individuals moves into an open square at the end of the street. As the camera turns, the viewers can see dozens of people waiting, all dressed with similar sweatshirts with hoods over their heads, shading their faces. Kris and the others join with them, with Kris now standing front and center in front of the camera.

"The problem that I have with you is that you are nothing like what you say you are. You hide yourself behind some persona. Me, on the other hand, I throw myself out in front of this camera, and in those arenas every single week. There is no bullshit when it comes to me. Yet, you gain a little recognition. You put yourself up above the people. Let me tell you something man, you are afraid to show your real self, and people know you in spite of it. I speak from the heart and nobody knows my name. You want to be on a pedestal for people to look up at? Fine. Be a role model. Me? I am just Kris Halich. I am just a face in the crowd. As far as you, and the rest of this roster is concerned... I am a nobody, but then again, so is everyone behind me. I am one of them. You choose not to know them because you are only concerned with them knowing you. That is a damn shame.... but that is your loss."

As he finishes, he starts to move backwards. The crowd moves up, and in moments, Kris is just a faceless individual in the crowd of nobodies. A second later, the feed is cut off.

47
Climax Control Archives / Commitment
« on: April 03, 2015, 11:54:11 PM »
 1 April 2015
=============
Los Angeles, CA
=============
OFF-CAMERA


Another night and another win. For Kris, since returning to the ring two months ago, it had gone this way more often than it hadn't. Tonight, much like the first night he stepped into the ring on for this return, he had walked out with $100,000 in his pocket, on top of his contract pay. Granted, he wasn't in it for the money. Truth be told, he couldn't even explain to himself, let alone anyone else, why he was wrestling. It wasn't money. It wasn't travel. It damn sure was not the fans. At the moment, we was content not to think about it. He just quietly put his ring gear back into his bag. The sooner that he was out of the arena and back home, the better. He was zipping up the bag when the door to his room popped open. He didn't even have to turn to know who it was. He knew immediately that he did not want to talk to him.

Jason Halich: Hey, you looked good out there man...

Kris laughed and shook his head. He shouldered his bag and started to move towards the door. He was not going to make eye contact with his brother. He wasn't even going to give him the courtesy of talking directly to him, instead he looked past him and to the hall.

Kristopher Halich: I always look good out there. Honestly, I look good everywhere.

Kris tried to step around his brother, but his elder shoulder checked him backwards, back into the room. Kris dropped his bag on the floor and squared his shoulders to his older brother. The last time they came to blows, Jason was left face down on concrete. If he wanted a repeat experience, Kris had no problem giving it to him.

Kristopher Halich: You not going to let me walk out? I don't get the luxury of ignoring you anymore?

Jason moved in through the doorway and even went as far as to give his brother a shove backwards.

Jason Halich: This bullshit is going to end now. I have given you space to throw your tantrum for two months, kid. Now it is time to stop being a bitch.

At first, Kris just bit down on his tongue. He had just gone through hell in a ring, expending any more energy would have been a pain in the ass.

Jason Halich: What's wrong? You can be shitty when you mention my name in promos, right? You have talked all kinds of shit about me on Twitter, haven't you? You are standing in MY company talking about making it all yours, aren't you?

Kris' hands balled into fists. He took a step back as his brother advanced towards him. This was not a conversation he wanted to have.

Kristopher Halich: You are going to ambush me after a match and corner me in a locker room?

That only caused Jason to laugh. He pushed closer into the room, and Kris retreated with his every step forward.

Jason Halich: You don't answer calls, texts, emails, or post cards. You don't ever stay in one place for more than a day at a time. So, yeah. I corner you in my arena, after a show in a company I own, in order to have a conversation that we can't otherwise seem to have.

Kris could not help himself. He had backed away more. He became more angry with every moment, but had sworn to keep his mouth closed. Jason just kept advancing though, and kept pushing, and pushing. Kris was never known for patience.

Jason Halich: So whatever your problem is, you need to lay that shit out. We are brothers that's what we do. Honesty, that's a thing. You're pissed I married Elena. You're pissed I adopted Gabby. I get it. That does not mean you just cut me out of your life, does it?

Kris had not wanted to cut him out of his life. At first he was pissed, sure. It felt like his brother was replacing the parts of his family with new people. He wasn't just a brother, we was the closest thing to a real father that he had ever had. Now he had a real daughter, one he adopted. He didn't need Kris to be his best friend, because Elena was there for him. He had a whole group of stepchildren now. Where did a fuck up, addict brother fit into that picture? Plus, there was something else. Jason had messed up biggest by not mentioning it, even in the locker room.

Kristopher Halich: It is my choice who stays in my life, and who doesn't. You don't get to decide that shit for me. You can't just control everything about my life. I come into your company, and take your weekly drug tests to get you off my back. I let you live your life that you don't want me in. So get out of my face, and get out of my way.

Kris tried to step around him and pick up his bag, but got another shove instead. Jason had gritted his teeth and looked away at that point. It was then that Kris realized how much this was getting to him. He had seen that face every time he asked him to go to rehab. Each time Kris had given in, because it was always his fault for falling into drugs. That was not the case this time though. This was on Jason, but Kris held onto that because of the promise he made Amari.

Jason Halich: You're right. I can't force you to talk to me. What I can do, is be brutally honest with you. You're acting like a child. You don't want to talk. You want to kick and bitch like a kid until I break down and give into you. It isn't going to happen this time though. I am done chasing you. You're 25 years old and if you don't want to be around, then don't be around. Don't you dare put that on me though. That is your choice.

That small voice in his head that kept telling him not to say anything was gone at that point. Kris was unable to hold back any longer. He shoved his brother and forced his way past him. He picked up his bag on the way to the door, only turning once he got to it.

Kristopher Halich: I thought of you like a father. You were always there to protect me, from our parents and from all the messed I dug myself into. I would tell you that you that I hope you do a better job handling all your stepchildren, but they are all grown. So how about this...

He had hesitated. That small voice had whispered one last time not to drop that bomb, but he ignored it without thought.

Kristopher Halich: Make sure that kid you put in Elena doesn't turn out like me.

Jason's jaw had dropped. That hostility faded into legit regret from not telling him, but before he gathered his thoughts, Kris had slammed the door and started down the hallway.

===================================
===================================

3 April 2015
==============
Athens, Greece
==============
10pm ON-Camera

The scene had become stereotypical of Kris at this point. He was walking around the city, hood up. He had actually watched back his previous promos from SCW and had a laugh. He always ended up in these situations. The more he thought about it, the more he chalked it up to exploring all of the cities they toured. For the most part, he had never been to any of them. If was hard to take time out of the day to sit still to cut a promo. Why would he want to be trapped in a hotel to do it? Why would he head to the arena to do it from a ring? There was too much around for him to visit.

Kristopher Halich: So here is the thing about SCW, there has always been one thing that has caused me to stumble and fall, but that ended last week.

He laughed lightly and shook his head. As he passed buildings he turned from the camera and looked up, soaking in the environment.

Kristopher Halich: Roulette rules, and that damn Roulette Championship always derailed any success I had. It has killed my momentum in this company on more than one occasion. That was only true until two weeks ago though. I finally managed to go into a match with those insane rules and beat someone. Granted, it was a little weird having you people cheer for me when I did. I am not the kind of guy that gets cheered. I guess, at least lately, I seem to be the lesser of two evils when I have been in the ring. My guess is that trend is going to continue this week.

Again he laughs. This time it is a little more heavy than the first. He raises his hand to his stomach as he does. If anything, he was mocking the fans. I had a feeling it was going to go over their heads though.

Kristopher Halich: Mikey Impact, other than a stupid name, I don't know a thing about you. Normally, I would chalk that up to me not doing any scouting. That isn't the case this time. I actually tried to look into you. You know what I found? That you have trouble booking flights. You were supposed to be at the show two weeks ago. If you had been, you would have gotten a first hand look at what I am capable of. You weren't able to make it. Who knows if you even paid any attention to it. I strongly doubt you even looked into anything I said before the match either.

Kris stops his stroll down the side of the road and turns to the camera. His hands fall into the front pocket of his hoodie. The look on his face is of ambivalence.

Kristopher Halich: I told everyone before my last match that there is not a rule I won't bend or break in order to walk away a winner. However, that Roulette wheel spun around and put me in a match where there were no rules to break. If you know nothing about what happened that night, know this. I won. What does that tell you about me? I will go to any length to prevent a loss, because when I lose, my world spins out of control. It weighs on me until the next time I step in the ring. I know you are thinking, that happens to everyone. Losses have a way of clouding your mind. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about not being able to function as a human being. I am talking about food being tasteless, art being meaningless, so much so that simply staring at a blank wall does not take away the sense of doubt and failure. I do not need to compete. I do not feel that pull to be inside a ring or traveling the world. However, failing at something is not something that I have ever been able to adapt to. I do not live and learn. I am incapable of accepting failure, and failing to win, hangs on me like a weight that is immeasurable. That is what you are going up against this week. You are fighting someone whose world shatters at the smallest sign of failure. I will do anything to avoid that feeling. That alone makes me a very difficult person to put down.

He shrugs his shoulders and steps up to the camera, his face still blank.

Kristopher Halich: Can you honestly say that you are as committed to winning as I am?

Like always, he raises his hand to cover the camera, giving it a push that causes the view to tilt upwards towards the sky as it cuts to black.

48
Climax Control Archives / Bar & Needing A Win
« on: March 20, 2015, 11:40:24 PM »
 May 17th --- Los Angeles
===================
Off-Camera

Clarissa is sitting at the bar high top, surrounded by shot glasses, drinking a beer. Kris comes through the door of the bar, staring at the pool tables in the back, feeling the familiar pull back to them, but he stops himself, knowing that wasn’t what he was there for. He scans the bar for Clarissa, finding her sitting at the bar. He moves across to her, and places his hand on the middle of her back. He leans in and plants a kiss on the top of her head, looking at her to gauge just how messed up she was.

KRIS HALICH: What’s up, love?

She looks up at him, her eyes glossy, and with a sloppy smile, before turning back to her drink.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Hi you…

The bartender looks up, and catches Kris’ eye, but before he wastes his time moving towards the duo, Kris shakes his head, signaling not to bother offering him a drink. He turns his attention back to Clarissa, and sits down on the stool next to her.

KRIS HALICH: How are you today?

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Peachy..

She doesn’t even look away from her drink to answer, and the single word she forces out sounds flat. He moves his hand slowly, up and down her back.

KRIS HALICH: I don’t imagine that you would have asked me to come if you were perfectly fine…

She raises the glass and takes a long drink from the tall glass.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: But… I… uh… I don’t know.

KRIS HALICH: Seriously, what’s up?

She spins the glass around on the bar, playing with it instead of directly engaging in the conversation. Kris was guilty of this himself. It was annoying to be on this side of it though.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I am not a very good person.

She finally does look up to him, meeting his eyes. He doesn’t respond immediately, instead shrugging with a sort of blank face.

KRIS HALICH: Neither am I.. I have known you for a long while, you can’t be so bad.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I’m… pretty bad…

She raises the glass again, pausing with the top rim of it brushing against her lips. She is hiding herself behind it. This wasn’t like her though, at least not in Kris’ experience. He tries to hide how nervous that makes him with a smile.

KRIS HALICH: What makes you so bad then?

He tilts his head, softening his expression to hopefully get her to open up.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I don’t know…

She shakes her head, angrily and pouts.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I JUST AM OKAY!?

The outburst draws attention to the two of them for those around, including the bartender. Kris holds up his hands to the man behind the counter, assuring him that he could take care of it on his own. He puts his free hand on her leg, and tries to catch her eye, but she again just looks down at her drink.

KRIS HALICH: I am not hearing a reason that you think that though.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I’m.. I’m just..

She moves her hand from her glasses to a shot sitting next to it, raising it instead and knocking it down without even a bitter face.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I’m a mess.

He cannot help but to shake his head and laugh at her.

KRIS HALICH: Ain’t we all?

She looks up from him, irritated by his laugh. When she locks his with him though, her lips turn upwards into a sort of half smile.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I am worse than a mess, Kris.

He scrunches up his face like he is considering her words, but then shakes his head no.

KRIS HALICH: Nope! I am not seeing it. How are you so messy?

CLARISSA ASHFORD: How can you not see it? Especially in the small time that you have known me? How many times have you had to pull me out of trouble? It is always one thing or another. The whole being drunk on a playground is just as much a reality as it is a joke we always talk about.

Kris doesn’t even miss a beat with a retort of his natural wit.

KRIS HALICH: Well, in all that time, I have not seen you murder a single person, so at least there is that.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I just have really bad luck….

This only gets another laugh, which makes the smile disappear from her face once again.

KRIS HALICH: Most of us do. Tell me what is on your mind.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: What if there's a lot on my mind?

He shrugs with a smile on his face and she seem reluctant but eventually her poker face disappears. She tries to stand up quickly, wobbling in her heels trying to stand straight.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I make a lot of stupid decisions and think without thinking. I turn to alcohol for everything. That whole situation with thrill... It was all my fault. That's only some of it.

She looks in his eyes for judgement but doesn't get any. She reaches for her drink and he makes no move to stop her.

KRIS HALICH: Everyone has a drug of choice. Legal. Illegal. Prescription. Sex. Everyone has something.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Why do you even think I am a good person?

KRIS HALICH: You haven't given me a reason not to.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I don't feel like it at all.

KRIS HALICH: Then spit it out.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I can be selfish. I can be stubborn. I have a temper that I try my best to hide but if pushed just enough it will come out. I spend way too much time trying to hide my flaws when in reality I have so many it's hard to hide them all. People see this sweet southern girl but the real Clarissa? She's not sweet all the time. I just get scared if that side comes out. If it does....

She looks down at the floor.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: You'll run....


He shakes his head, not buying it at all.

KRIS HALICH: Show me then.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Oh you will come face to face with it sometime.

She isn't looking up to see him again shaking his head.

KRIS HALICH:Its like youre trying to scare me off but not actually saying anything.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I'm not trying to scare you off. That's the last thing I want.

KRIS HALICH: Then what do you think is so bad about yourself? Tell me something, anything, that makes you so bad. Because from where I'm sitting, you are just fine.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I used to steal and lie and cheat to get myself ahead in regards to work. I used to steal a lot growing up and when I finally got caught and could have been in major trouble, I blamed my cousin and she got the blame. We haven't spoken since and she was like my sister.....


Kris shakes his head at her and opens the jacket of his suit, pulling his right arm out and raising the sleeve of the shirt inside to show the track marks that have scarred him.

KRIS HALICH: You see this? I lie to everyone to do this and I have done some serious shit in order to keep doing it. In the ring, I wear sleeves and blow off the facts when people throw them in my face. I have done sick things Clarissa, and I did them of sound mind and body. You sound like a girl that just made a mistake once. I am a bad person…

She looks at his arm and then back at him, kind of surprised. He looks around to make sure that nobody was paying attention and then slid his sleeve down and put his arm back into the jacket.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: You… you did that to yourself?

He laughs loudly.

KRIS HALICH: Hey, they don’t call me an addict fuck up for no reason. I am surprised that you hadn’t picked up on it. You know, you have been with me through some of it last year. I would be a dick one minute, and then lazy and quiet a minute later. I am irate and then calm and complacent, and sleeping an entire day.

She looks at him and shrugs, taking another drink of her beer.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I can’t judge. I only feel normal, calm and collected when I drink.

He leans forward and catches her eye.

KRIS HALICH: My point is that you are just like every other person. There is nothing bad about you. You fuck up. You drink. I don’t see you sucking random dicks in alleys and then stabbing hobos after. I think you’ll be alright.

She doesn’t break his eyes away from his.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I guess. You promise you still aren’t going to leave?

He smiles.

KRIS HALICH: Absolutely not going to leave. Unless you try to seduce and then murder me in an alley.

She slaps his chest playfully and smiles. She leans closer, hugging him and putting her on his chest just above the spot she slapped.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Never…

He wraps his arms around her, and kisses the top of her head.

KRIS HALICH: You’re pretty awesome, you know?

She looks up and bats her eyes, now smiling wider.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Not as awesome as you are.

She only gets a shrug from him.

KRIS HALICH: I am alright I guess.

He looks at her inquisitively though, kind of concerned for her well-being at this point.

KRIS HALICH: Do you need a ride home? Or are you going to throw up in my car if I try to drive you?

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I don’t throw up… but I can walk home from wherever here is…

KRIS HALICH: I am happy to drive you. It is kind of on my way.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: Its okay, I feel bad enough already. Plus, you have plans. I don’t want you to be later than I have already made you.

KRIS HALICH: Hey, I enjoy spending time with you, and with Ripley riding shotgun there is no chance for road head… or at least zero chance of GOOD road head. So I am happy to push him off an hour or so. It’s not like he is going to care to go a little later. I just want to make sure you get back okay. No parks. No public intox. No having to bail you out later.

She laughs lightly at the list of their previous adventures together when they worked for the same company in Nashville. She leans up and kisses his lips gently.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I’ll be fine, I promise.

She steps back, almost falling over when reaching to grab her sweater. He quickly moves forward and catches her by the arm.

KRIS HALICH: Clarissa, let me take you back, you leaving her alone isn’t going to turn out well one way or another. I would just end up feeling bad. Plus, I would just be worrying about you all night anyways.

She looks around the bar with her eyes glossy, shaking her head in disagreement still. She starts to put on her sweater, with Kris moving his hand to her hip to stabilize her.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: It’s okay. I promise. I will be fine. I feel bad that you’re already late.

KRIS HALICH: I am sorry if I gave you the impression that no was a possible answer. If I have to I will carry you out of this bar kidnapping style and put you in the car. I will even put on the child locks.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest and looks at him defiantly.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: You wouldn’t dar---

He doesn’t let her finish before he leans forward and picks her up. With one arm cradling her back, and the other under the back of her legs, and lifts her up to her chest without too much effort. He immediately turns towards the door, with no person in the bar even moving to stop him.

KRIS HALICH: So, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: KRIS!

She smiles, and it does get a little attention from the bar trash before the look away, seeing the smile and playful tone in her voice.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: This is so illegal!

KRIS HALICH: You refused to just come with. You’ve forced my hand manager girl!

She tries to wiggle away, giggling when he turns his back to the door and pushes it open with his back. His car was right outside, in a fire lane with the flashers on. The bouncer give him a nod and holds up his keys, which gets a friendly nod from Kris.

KRIS HALICH: Thanks for watching the car man. I told you it wouldn’t take but a second to get her out of there.

The bouncer moves around to the passenger seat of the car in front of Kris and pops it open. Kris places her on the seat inside and closes the door gently. He turns to the bouncer and reaches into his pocket and pulls a few bills from his money clip handing it to the man and patting him on the back. The man trades him the keys for the money and heads back towards his door. Kris moves around and sits down in the driver’s seat and puts the keys in the ignition. He turns to her with a smile.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: You’re both kidnappers! I am going to get that guy!

KRIS HALICH: I told him that you would try to talk your way out of it. Turns out he is an SCW fan. He knew exactly who we were and wasn’t going to stop us no matter what you said, so you be quiet best friend!

He reaches over and kisses her on the cheek, but she pouts. He reaches around the seat and grabs the seatbelt, pulling it across her and buckling it before he even notices the look on her face.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I am not just your best friend…

Her words are almost indistinguishable with the slurring of her speech, but they cut him pretty deep either way.

KRIS HALICH: I didn’t say that you were just my best friend… I said that you were. I also called you manager girl a little bit ago.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I… I don’t remember that….

She shakes her head and looks at him, batting her eyes and watching the cars go by. He steps hard on the gas before stepping on the clutch and shifting into first. The wheels spin, and squeal as he jets off, shifting down again to merge into the traffic, and then again to make a light about to turn red.  

KRIS HALICH: How would you define us, Clarissa?

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I would like to describe us as… uhh.. ummm…

She yawns loudly and looks out the window. She seems to lose her train of thought, and quickly gets bored looking at the sights out her window. She leans over sideways and rests her head on his shoulder while he drives, slowly starting to fall asleep.

KRIS HALICH: …. I just know I love you.

He says the words in a whisper, not wanting to stir her. She already knew he felt that way anyways.

CLARISSA ASHFORD: I love you, Kris…

Her words are whispered softly, slurring even more now, as she cuddles as close to him as possible, wrapping her arms around his shift arm, a smile crosses her lips before she falls completely unconscious.


=====================================================================
First Class International Flight
==========
On-Camera

I am not sure what the point of this is Drexel. Honestly? I mean weren’t you just in a match for the SCW Championship? How is it that you going from being one of the two challengers to the top prize, to a guy fighting the dude that came up short of a Roulette Championship for a second consecutive time on Pay Per Views he was booked on? How does that happen? I told everyone in the world what he had to feel like for the Roulette Champion to had to face an unproven rookie, with only two matches under his belt in the company. That, in my opinion was insulting. Never did I think that there was going to be a time that I was in a match more insulting to my competitor than that one was. Drexel, you have topped that. You went from a main eventer, to a lower midcarder in the course of a week off. That has to just get under your skin.

I can’t imagine how pissed you must be. You know what that means for me though? It means that you are an easy target. See, people in the crowd, and the announcers even, seemed to be on my side at the Pay Per View. Everyone wanted the champ to lose because they think he is a cock. They didn’t want me to win because I am likable. They didn’t want me to win because I was the more talented. I was the lesser of the two evils. This time it isn’t going to be the case. Nobody is going to cheer for me if I knock out the referee. Nobody is going to be on my side when I put my legs on the ropes to pin you in a roll-up. Everyone in the house is going to boo when I low blow you when the referee isn’t looking. See, like I told everyone from day one, I am not likable, but not only am I unlikable, I really don’t give a shit what people think about me.

I am here for one person, and one person alone. That is me. I get to go out and go something that I am good at for twenty minutes or so, get a fat paycheck, and then go home. I don’t play politics like the rest of the people in this building. I don’t pick sides. Hell, Amy Marshall likes me, and so do most of the Mean Girls. I am neutral when it comes to things that happen to others, but definitely not so much when it comes to what I am going to do to take you apart. If you aren’t cheating you aren’t trying. If you have a problem with that? Too bad. I don’t need to slap hands of fans on the way down the ring. I don’t need to hype them up at all, and waste time. I just get to do my thing and they can all go to hell.

The only thing to your advantage in this match, is that it is Roulette Rules bullshit. It is the biggest challenge that I have faced. Every one of those matches that I have been a part of, I have lost. Not only have I lost, but I have gotten beaten and embarrassed. I have been beaten by the Roulette Champion twice in front of sell out crowd and in front of more pay per view buys than I can count. These matches haven’t gone my way. Mainly the problem is that all of those rules I talk about breaking, may not even exist depending on what that wheel says. I haven’t ever gotten the benefit of it. I have never had it come up with something that I can translate into a win.

Here is me saying that this time is going to be different. Here is to me saying that if you beat me I am going to make sure you still don’t leave the arena at the end of the show. The likelihood of there being a dumpster for you to toss me into and be discarded inside is small. There is a slim chance that could happen back to back times. So hopefully there won’t be some bullshit that will stop me from being able to take an unfair advantage. The only thing that I hate more than losing is having people not understanding what all I am about. I don’t get cheered. I don’t get the commentators applauding me. I get what is best for me. Nothing more. Nothing less.

You’re going to lose. Because I really need a win.


49
Climax Control Archives / Your Afterthought
« on: February 13, 2015, 10:00:33 PM »
 [Flashback January 13th]

He hears a knock on the door, at first it was light, but probably at his lack of response, and building frustration, it because heavier when he doesn't answer. It startles him out of his slumber on the couch in his living room. Almost immediately panic sets in. Nobody was supposed to be here today. There was nothing to be delivered. There were no bills past payment. He looks around and sees no emergency that would require an angry neighbor to beat down his door. His first thought is to let Ava get it. It only comes to mind after listening to more pounding on the door that Ava was gone visiting family. He turned to look out the large bay windows behind him, it was still early morning. How long had he been asleep? How had he fallen asleep for that matter? The answer for the latter came to him in the form of his whole arm being asleep. He shook his head and pulled the rubber band tie the rest of the way off.

Kris Halich: Oh.. rookie mistake Kris..

He mutters under his breath. Again there was a thunderous knock on the door.

Kris Halich: YEAH! I'M COMING! FUCK!

He shakes his head brushing all of his kit off of the coffee table top and into a drawer. He hears something break when he quickly shuts the drawer. The look of anger on his face is starting to grow. At the moment, he couldn’t think of a more hostile way of being woken up in the morning. He looks back at the door, muttering.

Kris Halich: ..I don’t know who you are, but I am going to fucking kill you...

He looks around for a shirt, not seeing one in the immediate vicinity, and choosing to forego it. It was only going to take a second to brush off whoever it was at his door. It’s not like he really needed to be presentable. He puts the shoulder of his still sleeping arm against the frame of the door and pulls the door open far enough to look out, squeezing the hand in his dead arm to try and get some blood flowing through it.

Kris Halich: What do you wa--

He sees who is standing at the door and it takes the words out of him. Elena stands there. As always, she looks all polite and smelling all pretty for a woman of her age. No, that isn’t right. She hasn’t looked her age in more than a decade. Even with the most hostile of judgments, she looks 35, maybe 36 on a bad day. He is reminded of that fact when she offers Kris a smile.

Elena Halich: How are you doing after you beat up my husband, stole his car, vandalized it and tweeted the pictures?

She asks while still smiling. It was very clear to Kris where Amari got her demeanor from, however - Amari was colder about it. With Elena, that coldness was thinly veiled under her polite exterior. Elena Halich at least smiles at you. It’s probably why she is hard to stay mad at, even when she is clearly cutting you down.

Elena Halich: May I come in?

He sighs heavily and looks down to see that the color has returned to his arm. The sharp needle pain of his hand waking up is a reassurance of that fact. He pushes the door open and steps away so she can walk past him.

Kris Halich:  Suit yourself.

As he moves away from the door he raises his left arm to cover his right. Namely the thin mark from the tie and a small bruise on his bicep where he probably missed his mark, though he can really remember the reasoning. She steps through the door, and he pushes it closed with his heel.

Kris Halich:  I guess if you're staying I should put on some clothes.

It was probably smart to get himself covered up immediately. Elena wasn’t stupid, by any means. He heads towards the bedroom and emerges a moment later, throwing on a red hooded sweatshirt. As he puts his arms through the holes and brings it over his head, he sighs, his annoyance starting to subside.

Kris Halich: What can I do for you?

Elena Halich: I honestly was concerned and came to check on you, all snideness and bitchiness aside. How are you doing Kris?

He holds his arms out to his sides, motioning around the near spotless apartment and shrugs.

Kris Halich: Everything is just peachy here. I mean I have the place to myself. Ava is gone for a few days. Its been.. relaxing.

She nods, looking around. He could tell that she knew something was off. Then again, there was probably that inkling in her mind when she decided to make the trip over. She turns her eyes to him, and they narrow. He suddenly realizes there was likely something about his eyes that would give her all the proof she needed about her suspicions. She looks him over, stepping closer to him. She locks eyes with him.

Elena Halich: Relaxing, huh? How are your hands?

She gestures towards them, surely they got messed up with hitting Jason. He holds them out, turning them over so she can see can see both the back of his hands, and then his palms.

Kris Halich: Some scratches. It’s nothing to worry about. They are mostly healed already. How's his face? Or his ribs for that matter?

His words don’t sound like they have any remorse in them but they aren't cold either. They just, are. She smirks some at Kris, rolling her eyes at the younger Halich.

Elena Halich: I doubt you care, Kris. Honestly. I get why you did it. Honestly.

He shakes his head, denying to himself that she had any idea what she was talking about. Legally, they might be family, but that didn’t give her any right to think that she knows anything about him. She was going to try to dissect him after having only a few conversations with him in the past three months? Or maybe she thought she knew enough about him because of his brother’s stories. Either way, he is only half listening when she starts to speak again.

Elena Halich:  He's not replacing you or anyone. So you need to swallow that bitter pill and shut up with that all that shit. You had it rough growing up. I get that. No, I don't know the details not just yet, some day I will but you are not the only person in the world who had it rough. You are not the only victim out there Kris Halich. You are not the only person who has survived. You are not the only person who wakes up to nightmares. You are not the only person who delves into less than legal remedies to try and make it all go away, so you need to stop blaming Jason. None of that is his fault. He didn’t do anything to you. You know what the sick thing is, Kris? I have tried to tell him that, and he doesn’t believe me any more than you look like you do.

He laughs, blowing her off. She had gotten her self-righteous rant in. As far as he was concerned, she had delivered her message, and she was more than welcome to leave. He walks past her, speaking as he goes.

Kris Halich: ...so I used to get beaten up and abused after Jason was too bloodied to do anything about it. So, our dad was an asshole. So, our mom was too imprisoned to do anything about it, though she wouldn’t have. She was so wrapped around his finger. Dad couldn’t ever do anything wrong. So, Lindsay didn’t make it to her third birthday, and that got put on me and Jason. What could I do about it? I was seven.

He shrugs his shoulders and laughs. It sounded genuine. Maybe in his current state none of those nightmares bothered him. Maybe it was just that he was cutting into Elena and using his own experiences as a knife aimed at her, and that fact alone took the sting out of them for himself.

Kris Halich: Shit happens. Shit happened for years. It became the everyday routine. I mean, I didn't move out until 18. Jason? He was more or less gone from the time I was 13.

He continues walking until he reaches the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator and staring inside.

Kris Halich: So what? Jason could have adopted me and spared me five of those years. Granted I was getting a little difficult for our dad to beat me into not fighting back in those later years. On the other hand, I wasn’t a pretty teenage girl inside a gated in house.  

His face twists into a scowl at the thought of Gabby. To think, he actually liked the brat at some point. Maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of her now because she was getting what he had deserved more than a decade ago. He turns from the fridge and grabs a glass out of the cabinet. He hears her sigh, almost like she was starting to realize that he wasn’t going to be budged on the issue.

Kris Halich: What kind of host would I be if I didn’t at least offer you a drink? I have tea, water, and more tea.

Elena Halich: Water is fine. I haven't been feeling well.

He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and holds it up to her before putting it down on the island in the middle of the kitchen and then pushing it towards her.

Kris Halich: If I am honest, I don't blame Jason for it. I was bitter for a while that he is adopting your daughter for practically no reason, but never thought to take me out of that situation. Then I realized how hard he failed at being a father the last time he tried, or even the time before that. I mean he ran from Haley when she got pregnant and well… we both know how his actual daughter ended up after just a month.

He pauses, shaking his head as he pours himself a glass of tea. He couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind upon hearing him talk about his deceased niece like she meant nothing. He had pushed through her attempted guilt trip, laid his own, and now he was just trying to dig under her skin until she was irritated enough to throw herself out.

Kris Halich:  Now? Eh, fuck it. Spilt milk. Water under the bridge.

She walks over and spins the cap off of the bottle, placing it down on the island. She shakes her head, probably trying to shake off his words, or at least the majority of them.

Elena Halich: Gabriella asked him to adopt her. That's why he is doing it. She approached him about it. It wasn't something he cooked up. Her father, Hector…

She puts a hand over her mouth, nearly throwing up when she says that name. It’s like at the mention of it, the memories of all of the sick things that man did to her and her daughters flooded back. She swallows hard and takes a sip of water.

Elena Halich: He signed over his parental rights to her before he went back to Columbia with his father.

He was in the middle of taking a drink of his own drink when she gets to the end of her statement. He starts to laugh, restraining his body’s natural reaction to spit the tea from his mouth. He raises his hand to cover his mouth, finally able to get it down before shaking his head, still having a good laugh. Elena looks at him, not quite understanding the reaction.

Kris Halich: Columbia? Yeah... that's where he went.

He walks around the kitchen and past her, headed back the to the couch. She smirks at her brother in law.

Elena Halich: I have my suspicions, but I'm not saying a word. I learned to keep my mouth shut growing up.

He laughs some at her.

Kris Halich: I wasn't implying suspicions. I'm sayin homie got chopped up by the mob and fed to pigs as penance for his last month of bad decisions. Then again..

He turns to her with a condescending smirk towards the oldest of the Gonzalez women.

Kris Halich: You probably already knew that but you’re just in denial. They are your family after all. You know what they are capable of.

He shivers and has another laugh.

Kris Halich: They are some sick fucks, I will tell you that much.

She sits down on the couch, crossing her legs as she lets out a soft sigh. He was successfully turning the conversation away from himself. If he kept this up, she was a lot like a ticking time bomb at this point. He was curious how hard he was going to have to push her to get her out the door.

Elena Halich: I am not going to argue with that, but I was mostly kept away from all of that.

He lays his head back onto the couch, looking up at the ceiling. He still wore a smile on his face and laying on the condescension pretty thickly.

Kris Halich: ...but you're not stupid, Elena.

He raises his head so that he can look at her with absolute sarcasm.

Kris Halich: ...or are you?

Elena Halich: Maybe just oblivious.

She stops and seems to think over her choice of words. Oblivious was clearly not the word that she was looking for. Her eyes mirror her brain trying to search for the right word.

Elena Halich: No, I'm not stupid nor oblivious. I'm well aware. I am just hoping to god they didn't bring Amari into it.

She her eyes say that she is pretty sure that they did. Of course, Kris was probably closer to her middle daughter than she knew. He got the full story from her just days after it happened. They swapped stories, and had a lovely conversation on the beach in San Diego when she showed up more or less uninvited with her new entourage.

Elena Halich: Amari  is more like that side of that family than my brothers are, and they live for it.

She glances at him. The smile starts to fade off of his face. His little ploy had gone as far as she was going to allow it. It was quite obvious to him that she had remembered the reason that she had made the trip across Los Angeles this morning.

Elena Halich: So what did you take? I can tell you took something. Afterall, we already agreed I am not stupid, Kris Halich.

He smiles and plays innocent, attempting to deflect again.

Kris Halich: … I don’t remember agreeing to that at all.

Her eyes tell him that she in unimpressed, and not just that, but unamused. Getting a rise out of her was more difficult than he thought it would be. Apparently that thin veil of politeness that she drapes over even the harshest of words was thicker than he thought it was. He sighs and finally answers her question.

Kris Halich: No idea what you're talking about, sister of mine.

Elena Halich: Your eyes say otherwise. I bet if I check your arms, they'll say the same.

It was like she knew what he was going to say. She was on top of what she was going to say almost before he was able to finish his denial. Still, she wasn’t necessarily going to jump on top of him to find out.

Kris Halich: Well then I guess I should be happy I am all covered up.

He puts his feet up on the coffee table, mentally protecting the drawer in the side of it from her eyes. Any feeling of exposure he was feeling started to fade immediately.

Kris Halich: That is indeed bold of you though, coming over unannounced with your accusations.

She smirks some, probably noticing that now she had him on the ropes. He was trying so hard to get a rise out of her moments ago, and now she was being more successful doing the same to him.

Elena Halich: Really? Kris, I was a nurse for twenty-five years. My first husband was an addict. I know the signs... brother of mine.

He shrugs with a smile. The look on his face is less than innocent now. There was no use in actively denying it now. The game now would be separating what she knew, and what she could prove. From where he was sitting, she knew everything, but she wasn’t able to prove a thing to anyone, probably not even his brother.

Kris Halich: That's cute, but my eyes are hardly conclusive evidence of anything. If they look strange it is just because you woke me up from the deadest of sleeps.  I was out like a light when you knocked. Right here actually. If you hadn’t been trying to beat in the door, I would probably still be sleeping.

He sizes her up as she digests that information. Either she was going to buy it enough to throw that veil of politeness back up, or she was going to disregard it and try and push him further towards snapping. What she didn’t know was that he was still loaded enough to be incapable of becoming that agitated.

Elena Halich: Then pardon me for assuming the worst of you. I'll ignore the other subtle signs that someone untrained would not be able to pick up.

She takes a sip of her water. The gambit seemed to have paid off. Her words sound like a retreat more than anything else. She sighs and puts her water down.

Elena Halich: As long as you are still alive and all that. Seriously though, is there anything you need?

He smirks, it's a slight agitation in it. She was starting to backpedal away, so he should be calm. Instead, he finds himself to be irritated that she isn’t going to press him. She made it into a game of chess, and now her words are like she is turning over her king and quitting just when the game gets interesting. He was going to force her to play if he had to.

Kris Halich: What is it you think you know?

He searches her eyes. She was going to play, because he knows that he can’t lose.

Elena Halich: Considering it's not that far of a walk from the door to the couch. I heard you carrying on before you came to the door. You tell me, Kris.

He nods. If that was all the ammunition she had no wonder she was backing away from the conversation.

Kris Halich: Carrying on? I said I was going to kill whomever was waking me up.

She rolls her eyes, and sits up. He thinks that she is going to get up and leave without another word, but instead she goes back to her original point.

Elena Halich: Yeah. Anyway. Do you need anything? I'm being sincere here.

He crosses his arms across his chest. This wasn’t entertaining. There was no joy in this conversation. At this point she was just wasting his time.

Kris Halich: No, but I am interested in what you think you know. Come on. Out with it.

Elena Halich: I think you're still using. Or using again. I don't know what happened when Jason got here Christmas Eve. Honestly, none of that is my business. He talked to all the doctors in the hospital and kept the rest of us in the dark mostly.

He opens his mouth to cut her off right there but she holds up a hand so that he will let her finish.

Elena Halich: I just know he was very upset that he almost lost his brother. You're all the family he has left. He was very clear about that when you were in the hospital.

Was she trying to appeal to his morality now? Show him that there are people that care about him and hope to sway him away from the hostility that he has showed them in the past month? That wasn’t going to happen.

Kris Halich: Heh. If I was, using, and he knew, I'd be back in a rehab facility like right now.

He makes sure to restate himself after replaying his words.

Kris Halich: IF I was using.

He makes sure to put emphasis on his first word, driving home his point that he was completely sober, not that it was actually any of her business.

Elena Halich: You want my opinion?

Kris Halich: Sure. I'm a big fan of fiction.

Elena Halich: You can't force anyone to do anything they don't want to do and you shouldn't.

She shrugs some, but he nods in agreement. Maybe that was why he always failed when he had gotten out of rehab before. He never wanted to go in the first place. It wasn’t a decision that he had made for himself any of the times he went. It was always Jason trying to save him from ending up on the street dead. At least that is what Jason told him when the topic was brought up.

Elena Halich: Probably why I'd never take any of my family members to rehab or AA, or therapy of any kind. That is something you have to do on your own.

He laughs. It almost sounded like she was set on being an enabler for the rest of her life. In the matter of minutes she went from accusing to nearly condoning.

Kris Halich: I think that he has it in his mind that he owes me.

Elena Halich: Gee, I wonder why.

She says dryly and gets to her feet. He raises her bottle of water and takes another drink, the annoyance visible in her face is growing now. He wasn’t going to just let her walk away without digging in a little more though.

Kris Halich: Shit happens….

Elena Halich: Yeah it does. Well, since you are fine and don't need anything. I'll be going.

She goes around the back of the couch instead of walking in front of him. He can’t help but think that maybe she doesn’t want him looking in her eyes for fear of what he might see. All of the talk about what symptoms he was showing, and she won’t give him the chance to see her real emotions in hers.

Kris Halich: You know, I am not inside his head. I couldn’t tell you what he is thinking. Then again, maybe he doesn’t even know what he is thinking. He isn’t necessarily stable, but you probably know that already too.

She makes her way to the door. Not bothering to look back at him. She raises her free hand up and give him a wave.

Elena Halich: Have a good one, Kris.

Kris Halich: Thanks for stopping by. Don't be a stranger.

It was sarcasm and it was incredibly easy to pick up on. As she steps out she knows he didn't mean a word of it. She closes the door carefully and quietly behind her, like any polite person would do. Just like that she was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CAMERA: ON
2.13.2015
Jon Dough?


Kris is seen walking down the sidewalk of a mostly deserted alleyway. The lights overhead cut through the pitch black night. They are spaced so that just as Kris’ features start to fade, the next light brightens them back up. The pace he is walking is slow, the camera just in front of him. He clasps his hands together and exhales into them, trying to warm them. As he pulls them away fans can see his breath hanging in the air. He looks directly at the camera and smiles, with a salutary nod.

”Last I saw you guys I was about to stand in the ring for the first time in six months. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to say to you guys. Old Skool? I had nothing on the guy. I hadn’t seen him before. I hadn’t heard of him before. That, by no means, is me insulting the guy. It is my own fault. I knew nothing about him because while I am away from the ring, I don’t pay attention. That isn’t just a reflection of SCW, but of every company. If I am not inside their ring, or backstage at their show, I don’t watch. It isn’t because I am not a fan of this business. If I wasn’t a fan, I wouldn’t have chosen this career path. However, now that I know what it is like to be in the ring, I can’t just sit at home and watch other people do it. It changes once you have been on the other side of the television screen.”

The camera stops backing up in front of him, and allows him to walk past. Fans can see why the camera stopped, as in front of them is a four-way intersection. Kris steps right in the middle of the roads, and just stares off in each direction. Each road ahead seems to get equal attention, almost as if he is indifferent about his direction. Maybe he is just lost in Norway. When he starts talking again, his back is to the camera.

”So, I went into a match blind, and managed to knock the guy out in the middle of the ring. I have seen the replay. I heard what the announce team had to say about the finish of that match. I completely agree with them when they said things in that match were uncharacteristic of me. I sat down and tried to go through it in my head, and it all seems like a blur. Then a funny thing happened. As I watched, for what had to be the thirtieth time, the pieces of the puzzle came together for me. Nothing in that match was characteristic of me because nothing about me inside that ring can be characterized. I have always been told that me being inside that ring, and the things that I do, is madness. The people I have trained with over the years, when I have been able to train, get frustrated because there isn’t a pattern, or any distinct flow. If I can be put into any category, it is reckless. If anyone wants to try and read me like I book I apologize. This kind of book has pages reading left to right, right to left, inverted, and mirrored. I am not saying I am impossible to fight. I am damn sure not unbeatable. However, I can say with relative certainty, that the key to beating me is something that people are going to have to find when they are standing opposite of me, not sitting and watching tape.”

He spins around to face the camera and holds his arms out to his sides with a smile. He shrugs with his arms out, seeming completely carefree.

”I figured out a lot watching that match. Actually, I don’t think “figuring out” is the right way to put it. I think that a better way to put it would be to say that I was reminded of something. See, I expected people to watch that match and be impressed. I expected that the roster was going to step up and say I did something impressive. I thought I would be given some kind of recognition for my effort. That was clearly not the case. Whether it was some chick that gets paid but can’t remember her own name or fans that took the opportunity to hit the bathroom while the match was on. Nobody paid it any attention. One guy lurking around the back even told me he didn’t watch the undercard of the show. I watched that match from two weeks ago more times than anyone else in this world, At first I was pretty pissed that nobody was paying any attention. Then I realized that it only works to my benefit. People in SCW don’t know who I am? People that at least know my name, only know so because it was my brother’s before it was mine. Nobody wants to watch the matches that I am in? That’s fine. I will move up the roster in everyone’s blind spot. I realized I don’t need recognition to get in the ring. All I need from SCW is a paycheck and I can get one of those just by showing up and stepping in the ring. I don’t need anything from any of you people.”

He shakes his head, the smile not coming off of it as he turns left of the direction that he had been going. The camera quickly comes around his side, and then continues to focus on him from the front. He buries his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and sinks his head down into his shoulders as the wind picks up.

”Now I don’t want you people to feel like you are wasting your precious time watching me. You want me to talk about Jon Dough, right? I really don’t know what you people want me to say. Am I supposed to demean a guy that I have never met? When I saw the card, it said this guy knows what it is like to be a champion. Personally, I have never had any kind of gold around my waist. The closest that I have gotten was right here in SCW and I came just a hair short of taking the Roulette Championship off of Equinox. That was as far up the mountain as I got before falling all the way down to the bottom. This guy seems like he has been there just like me. This guy was pretty much dead for six months. I have been there. This guy is missing chunks out of his life. I have been there too. That is about as far as similarities go. From what I have collected the guy likes to live on his two feet when he is inside that ring. He likes to get his hands on people and take them to the mat. On the other hand, I like being in the air. I enjoy catching people by surprise. I pick my spots. That means that this match is going to be pretty easy to call. If I get in the air, things are going to be bad for Jon. If he grounds me, then I am going to be out of luck. I can say this much, it doesn’t appear that I will be knocking anyone out this time around. Maybe that is a good thing, maybe not. I guess we will see when the lights go on in Norway.”

The camera stops and Kris starts to move past it. He raises his hand to cover the lens.

”Now get out of my face…”

The camera bobbles around a bit when he lets go and the scene fades to black as he walks away.

50
Climax Control Archives / Tides
« on: January 30, 2015, 08:55:07 PM »
 [Inner Monologue]
I can remember the exact moment that I started thinking about making a comeback to SCW. Well, to say SCW would be a lie. It was more like coming back to the ring in general. It was that slight tingle at the thought of being in the ring. A lot of people say that it is the fans that bring them back. People think what wrestlers want is the spotlight on their faces and people to know their name. I was never like that. Sure, those things are a bonus, but wrestling, for me, has always just been about filling a void. Until recently, I had convinced myself that I had filled that void.

Again, I say recently, but I can tell you the exact time and date. It was this past Christmas Eve at exactly 2:14 in the afternoon in L.A. I was sitting at my desk just staring at my phone after a conversation I had with my mother. We aren’t necessarily close. The words she said to me, it made me look at that void I had always felt within myself. I realized that I had only tricked myself into thinking I had filled it up, but that was a lie.

So what is it that the little brother of a fairly well known wrestling personality do when there is nothing else? What do you do when you realize when you realize that the family you thought you have doesn’t care about you? What do you do when the girl that was supposed to be your finance doesn’t have a clue how to relate to you? Let’s face it.  Somebody like me? Everyone has money on turning to drugs. Why shouldn’t they? I say to hell with that though. I am going to fill this void fighting, and that’s what started this comeback… fighting.


♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

[Flashback January Ten Twenty-Fifteen]

Jason's black ZR1 whips around the corner,  off the residential street that the house sits off of. He stops at the gate, thinking to himself that they don't particularly even need it anymore, and punches in the four digit code. It starts to slide open, and that is when his little brother decides to chime in.

Kris: You know,  I never pictured you as the "gated community" type. I mean, the beach side loft, the little shitty apartment in Atlanta, that's you. This....

Jason shakes his head and steps on the gas as the gate pulls all the way open. The car follows the driveway up to the garage, but instead of pulling in Jason turns with the cul-de-sac style turnaround and points the Corvette back towards the gate before killing the engine. He reached flips up the center console and presses a button on the little remote within, opening the garage door. He sighs.

Jason: I married into all this. You know me, I am happy living in a dump. There is only one flashy amenity that I need.

He pats the steering wheel of the car. Kris knew he had a thing for them. Between the ZR1 and the Skyline back in Atlanta, his brother had spent enough money on cars as most people did a house.

Kris: I am counting down the days until you buy a new one. Maybe I can finally get one of them thrown my way. At least then I would get to drive it.

His older brother laughs heartily.

Jason: Would you trust a heroin addict behind the wheel of a hundred thousand dollar car?

He gives Kris a doubtful look, but realizes his mistake as the younger Halich shrugs.

Jason: Never mind. Of course you would. You're out of your mind.

Both of them open their respective doors, Jason getting out more quickly, not hearing Kris muttering under his breath.

Kris: It runs in the family....

Their doors close almost in unison. Jason looks around the driveway, his eyes darting back and forth,  contemplating whether or not he should open his mouth. Kris comes around the front of the car, seeing the expression on his brother's face.

Kris: Ah, fuck. What is it? Just spill it instead of standing there looking like an ass clown.

The older brother isn't surprised by Kris' sarcastic attitude. It was one of those things that he never lost, despite the situations or struggles he went through. He wasn't the worrying type.

Jason: I was kind of waiting to mention any of it until everything was official, but since you're here and Gabby is here, I guess you are probably going to find out today anyways.

Kris feigns a surprised look and brings his hands to his mouth.

Kris: Oh my god you knocked up your underage step-daughter. You are sick. And Elena hasn't thrown you out?

Jason shakes his head and starts walk in towards the garage with Kris following at his side.

Jason: You're a troubled individual. You know that?

Kris laughs as they get to the opened garage door.

Kris: Well if that isn't it, what is it?

Jason nods, shrugging his shoulders.

Jason: I guess it isn't too big of a deal. Gabby talked to Elena and they both decided it was ok, so she asked me to adopt her. She's going to be my daughter.. you know legally.

Kris turns around to face his brother, having continued towards the door when his brother stopped to spill the news. The words stop Kris in his tracks.

Kris: You're doing what?

That sarcastic and carefree tone evaporated from his voice. His eyes sharpened as his brow furrowed.

Jason: [confused] I'm adopting her. I mean, she is 17. It won't mean much. Now that her father is gone though--

Kris: [interrupting] Yeah! He's fucking gone alright.

Jason: What? How do you even--

Kris: [interrupting again] If it doesn't mean then why do it? Huh? Give me a reason. You've been here, what? Two months? And you are seriously even considering this?

Jason takes a step towards his little brother, reaching out and patting him on the shoulder as he tries to move by, seemingly oblivious to his brother's level of irritation.

Jason: Its nothing. Really.

Kris' lips press together hard and he shoves his brother backwards with both hands. Jason is thrown off balance, having to take a few steps back to avoid falling over.

Kris: Don't pat me like a fucking dog and then blow me off. What are you thinking? This is what you want?

Jason seems more confused by the second, clearly not thinking this was how the conversation was going to go.

Jason: What's the big deal dude? It doesn't change anything. Family is family, right?

Jason takes a few steps forward towards the house again but Kris shoves him again, harder this time. Jason, somewhat prepared for it doesn't fall back nearly as far this time.

Kris: No. Family is blood. Family is you and me. Is this your way of trying to replace Emily? Or Linds--

This time it is the older brother that issues a shove. Kris wasn't braced for the ferocity that was going to come from mentioning Jason's deceased daughter, or their sister.

Jason: I don't know what your problem is, but this conversation is over.

Jason again tries to walk past Kris, but this time is met with a closed left hand, aimed for his jaw. Jason catches the fist in the palm of his right hand and stops its momentum.

Kris: I'm not done talking.

Kris swings his right hand, and Jason raises his left arm in response, guarding his face and taking the punch to the ribs instead. However, he lowers his arm and traps Kris' against his ribcage.  

Jason: Calm down.

The younger of the two responds with a headbutt to his brother's mouth, freeing himself and busting Jason's lip open. Jason steps backwards and turns away, walking out into the driveway, away from the garage and raising a hand to his mouth.

Kris: Why are you walking away? Scared? You don't want to hear what I have to say?

Jason nods his head and raises his hand out to Kris, waving for him to come on.

Jason: You got something to say, say it. Don't dance around it like a bitch. Man up for once in your life.

Kris shakes his head and charges his brother, who raises his arms, fists closed, ready for him this time.

Kris: You care about this family more than you do your own, don't you? Youre trading up to something worthwhile, eh?

Kris swings wildly with his right hand, but Jason steps to the side. The momentum of the missed blow sends Kris forward and he is stopped from face planting into the driveway by Jason wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling his head into his ribcage in a sort of front facelock.

Jason: That's what you think? I am replacing the girls with Gabby?

He sounded like he had confidence in his answer. Kris' reply shattered that illusion.

Kris: Fuck the girls, Jason!

Kris sent his free left hand into his brother's kidney with all the force he could muster. It creates space between them, enough for Kris to shove his elder away. Jason rocks back on his heels but stays balanced enough not to fall. His confusion is at an all time high though.

Jason: I don't even know what we are fighting about then Kris.

Jason holds up his hands, breathing heavily.

Kris: Eighteen years Jason! Eighteen fucking years I stayed in that house. I was twelve when you dropped out and started working. You know how many nights he came him and I was the only one there? What do you think that got me?

Jason still looked confused.

Jason: What does that have to do with anything Kris? We got out! Look at where we are!

He holds up his hands, gesturing to their surroundings. He takes a few steps forward cautiously.

Kris: Look at me Jason... the past ten years of my life haven't been better than the first fifteen. You got out of that house. I have never left....

Jason hears the defeat in his brother's voice. He closes the gap between them, seeing a tear fall from his brother's face to the pavement as he looks down.

Jason: We don't have to deal with that anymore. It's over.

Kris looks up with bloodshot eyes but there is still rage in them. He pushes Jason away,  but its less than a shove.

Kris: Stay away from me.... go adopt your new daughter... she's the one you want.

Jason is still dumbfounded. He takes another step forward with a concerned look on his face. Kris only lashes out though.

Kris: I told you to stay away from me.

Jason doesn't have time to block the closed fist that pummels him in the right eye. He backs up, disoriented, and raises his hands only for Kris to send a stiff shot to his stomach. When Jason's hands instinctively lower, Kris screams out and unleashes shot after shot at Jason's eye until it cuts open and he falls down to his knees. Kris stops when his brother falls and steps away shaking the blood off his hand before brushing at his eyes.

Kris: You just don't get it do you? Or do you just not care about me?

Jason leans back and looks up at his brother.

Jason: Of course I care about you...

Kris doesn't like that answer. The charges back in and this time kicks Jason in the stomach, doubling him over onto all fours. He gasps for air as Kris paces around again.

Kris: I mean if you loved me then maybe this thought would have crossed your mind back then. You had the job. You could pay all the bills. We could have left. We were self-sufficient anyways....

Jason finally pieced together the reason Kris had snapped. He felt stupid. How could he have missed it?  He should have known straight off. He should have known years ago.

Jason: You're jealous of her....

This isn't the response Kris particularly wanted to hear either. He turns around and punts Jason in the stomach, flipping him over onto his back. Jason laughs, it's mostly masked by choking sounds of his lungs not filling.

Jason: You could have asked me about it if it was on your mind. You know I would have done it. You were all I h--

Kris had heard enough. As Jason turns back over and starts to get on his hands and knees, Kris charges in a final time, punting Jason this time in the head dropping him lifelessly flat down on the pavement. He shakes his head before bending down and reaching into his brother's pocket, and removing his keys.

Kris: If I was all you had you wouldn't have needed me to ask.

He stands up moving away and towards the car. Jason manages to turn his head towards the car as Kris opens the driver's side door.

Kris: You know where I live. You can come get your car later. I'm not going to impede on your happy rich family.

Jason has trouble pushing himself off the ground as Kris starts the car, revs the engine into the red before dropping it into gear. The tires spin and smoke, squealing loudly as the car shoots down the driveway, only slowing a bit to let the gate open just wide enough to fit through.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

The scene opens with Kris sitting in front of the camera. The room is dark, tinted so that his face is almost just an outline, almost. However, through the dim lighting the viewers can see a slight smirk on his face.

There is a tide in the affairs of men...

He pauses, long enough to allow anyone watching to search their minds, trying to pick out the source of the quotation. Their mind wandering is cut off though, as he starts to speak again.

Every person is born with a certain natural flow within them. We are all pulled in different directions by things that we haven’t the slightest idea about. My favorite color is green. Where did that come from? Why is it relevant? You’ll see a lot of people come into this business that say that they were born to do this. You will hear the same promo over and over again, dozens and dozens of times. How many of these people actually mean it? Who knows? I don’t care. My point, is that I am not one of these people. The things that have pulled my attention are things that the company would probably get really mad if I sat here and went on about. That is not important. What is important is that people that think they were born for it, come to it naturally. They build their whole lives towards it. It shapes their lives. It is what they want to do night in and night out. That is not who I was when I started in this company. That is not who I have been in the years before then. That is not the person that I am now. I do not eat, drink and breathe this business. That is probably why months ago, I lost my way and disappeared from this roster. For people born to be here, moving towards the ring and the spotlight is a natural thing. For me, it is an uphill battle.

He shrugs his shoulders, discarding that thought. He clearly didn’t care to dwell on it. Instead, he clears this throat.

This tide, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

The smirk grows wider across his face as he can almost feel the viewers still trying to place the quotation.

These people, kind of like Old Skool, follow their own personal tide towards their goal, and have landed themselves here where they seem to perfectly fit. I saw him come out in front of the crowd. I watched him rile people up by just showing up. The crowd went nuts when they realized who it was that was stepping out from behind that curtain. He was feeding off of them. They were feeding off him. You can tell when a person has gone every moment of every day looking forward to something, you can tell when that pays off. That guy looks like he loves it in there. Compare those notes to my return. Same night. Same arena. Same time. We couldn’t have been further apart in the minds of anyone watching the show.
He shakes his head and brings his hands, fingers interlocked, up to his mouth, covering something that looks like irritation. He closes his eyes and just rolls his shoulders, getting rid of that thought in order to move on.

This tide, if omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.

The familiar words again come out of his mouth, and even seem to put him a little at ease.

If denied the opportunity to get to this level of competition, what would happen to these people? If they never got their fifteen minutes in the spotlight, would they be able to look at themselves in the mirror? When you see someone go to that ring and come alive, you have wonder exactly how they feel when they aren’t there in front of a camera. Maybe that is why most of the people in all of these huge companies spend most of their lives tweeting every thought they have, original or otherwise. Some people, like what I saw from Old Skool last week, thrive in front of cameras and need that recognition from the fans. He literally screams at them to holler at him. He steps into the ring and not only demands attention, but demands that they verbally validate his entire existence. I don’t mean to sound condescending. I am not insulting Old Skool, or anyone like him. See, when that natural tide within yourself is propelling you towards this business, and you finally get here, it is a beautiful thing. It is a beautiful thing that not everyone gets to feel. There are people like me that show up here because it is what they are good at. People like me that show up against the way that the tide is pushing them in order to attempt to fill a hole within themselves with something comparable to what they really want. I don’t want you to pity me though. If anyone deserves your pity it is the people not like me. The thing that those people, those ones that live and breathe, with every ounce of their being, this business… the thing that they don’t realize is that they have nothing..

He snaps his fingers and the dim light goes out, cutting the screen to black, but the video keeps rolling.

... they have nothing when the cameras are off. They have nothing when the days of traveling are behind them. They have nothing when something takes this away. I pity them because everyone in the world knows that every second you live is one you cannot get back. Everyone’s time is slowly running out. Being in an industry like this, your time in the spotlight fades pretty fast, and then you have a life of darkness ahead.

On such a full sea are we now afloat,

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.


Here is hoping that I am not the reason Old Skool loses his venture. That light in his face when he spoke to the world last week…. I hope it doesn’t go out when I win the match. That would be a tragedy not unlike that of Julius Caesar.


As the feed finally cuts off, the fans get their answer, act four, scene three. Who would have thought when the video started that they would hear an addict quote Shakespeare.

51
Climax Control Archives / First Impressions
« on: August 15, 2014, 10:31:09 PM »
 [OFF-CAMERA]

The hotel room is trashed. Actually, trashed may be a bit of an understatement. Lamps are knocked over, chairs are inverted, the bed is thrashed even though there is nobody in it, and there were these little serving size bottles of alcohol just about everywhere on the floor. Jason checked the mini fridge of the room, to find it empty. He pushed the door closed with his foot, but it didn’t seem to catch like it should, instead just hanging open. He had expected most of this. Kris was never one to simply sleep with a smile on his face after receiving good news. That wasn’t the norm for anyone in this family though. The good news was, in all of his snooping, he didn’t find a most empty plastic bag with white powder in it. There were no empty gel caps on the floor. There weren’t any metal spoons, broken rubber bands, needles or anything of the like. The kid had even placed “Do Not Disturb” signs on both sides of the door. One was to tell housekeeping that he would clean up the mess. The other was to tell himself that he shouldn’t disturb others by taking the party out of the room in whatever state he was in. It was a concept that the two of them had drilled into their heads more than a dozen times while together. It was like putting a stop sign at the door, even when they were inebriated, that sign was still there.

That is why, even with seeing the room in disarray, he is completely calm. That is why, when he pushes open the bathroom door, he is happy to see a trail of empty bottles leading to a limp arm hanging out of the bathtub. If he is honest, he should have definitely expected him to be here. If Jason had learned anything from the constant hungover state of their parents come time for sunrise, it was the value of silence. So, when he steps around to look down at his kid brother in the bathtub, the kid is still asleep. Then again, nobody would wake up from this kind of bender just by someone poking around in their room. Jason grabs the lid of the toilet and gently closes it before sitting down on top of it. For a moment, he just watches the kid sleep, but then the curtain catches his attention. It was half closed, probably to block out the light, but not even opening it would wake him up. Jason pulls it back, and then slowly lifts it out of the tub and lets it hang just above the floor. He looks from his sleeping brother to the faucet, and the lever on the top of it that causes water to come through the showerhead instead of out of the faucet itself. He takes hold of it and lifts it, just in case. Finally, he starts to look around the room. The plunger sitting on the floor under the countertop catches his eye and puts a smile on his face. Jason leans over and grabs it and then turns back to his brother, slowly leveling the suction end to his bare chest. With a quick jabbing motion, he sticks the plunger to him, and with luck, the suction cup actually holds to him. The force of the jab even wakes him up.

Kris
WHAT THE FUCK!


The look of surprise on his brother’s face was worth it. However, it is something else that brings the smile to his face.

Jason
I have always wanted to say this….


Kris tries to shove the plunger away, but Jay leans into it hard.

Kris
Say what?


Jason
CLEAR!


He immediately rips back on the plunger. It doesn’t give for a moment, but when it does there is a loud snap. Kris’ arms go up to his chest to cover the red circle that is already forming there. The younger brother kicks at his elder as he pulls the plunger away, sending it flying across the room. Jason watches it fly, unable to contain his laughter. The plunger lands on the counter and comes to rest only when it smacks against the wall. Kris kicks again, this time at his brother, but clearly the hangover comes into play. Jason is able to move out of the way, and Kris slides down further into the bathtub, now with his leg hanging out over the side. He pushes himself up, enraged at how he was woken from the most peaceful of slumbers.

Jason
… you don’t want to do that.


Jason reaches over, finding the cold water knob with his fingers while maintaining eye contact with Kris. The laughter has faded, but the devious smile is still on Jay’s face.

Kris
Do it and I will kill you.


He considers the threat, and then shakes his head, rejecting the thought.

Jason
On a hangover? Not likely.


Kris opens his mouth for a retort, but doesn’t find the words. His brother did have a point. The light in the room was already starting to melt his brain. Being actively angry would just make his head throb worse. Still, he wasn’t exactly going to give up.

Kris
What do you want?


Jason
You just go right ahead and lay back down there as you were. There is no reason this has to get nasty kid. It was all just a practical joke.


Kris holds up his hands, and exhales heavily, not happy about it, but compliant. He leans back against the back of the tub, and reaches down into the pocket of his pants to find his phone. Jason sits back, taking his hand off of the knob and waiting on his brother. He pulls the phone free of his pants and looks at the screen.

Kris
It’s eight in the fucking morning man…. what is wrong with you?


This draws a small laugh, and a shrug of the shoulders from the older brother. The smile on his face fades though, and he turns his attention to the bottles on the floor. He points to them, and watches some of the light fade from his brother’s eyes.

Jason
Should I be worried about any of this?


Kris leans to the side of the tub and looks at the floor, noting the single serving bottles there. How many could he remember throwing down? For that matter, how in the hell did he get in the bathtub? His best guess is that the mini fridge probably got emptied. He probably made a huge mess of things, and then sleeping in something bigger than a Prius just wouldn’t do. However, there had been a reason for celebration.

Kris
Well…. no… It would be a problem if there was anything other than alcohol here. From the look on your face, and the lack of police and handcuffs in here, tells me that you didn’t find anything that could get me in any real trouble so….


Jason cuts him off, unable to let his brother talk his way out of the hole just because it was one substance and not another.

Jason
It doesn’t matter if I didn’t find you here with a needle in your arm. It matters that this is clearly not very CLEAN. Which is what you are supposed to be, right? So what reason did you have to throw all this back, huh? What good news did you get?


There was clear anger in his voice, but his tone never raised to the level of yelling. If anything, he sounds hurt by the fact that he hasn’t had him back long enough to be ok with him relapsing and having to take another tour of hospitals. It isn’t fair. Not yet.

Kris
Man, I am in an awesome place right now. Ava and I are clicking. This SCW is taking off. The money from Matthews is rolling in. It was a night to have fun. I put the stop sign on the door, just in case. Clearly knocking back one or two isn’t going to work. Lesson learned.


…. and like that, all that anger faded. The disappointment was still there, but the hot flash of anger subsided. Jason looked out of the bathroom to the doorknob of the hotel room. He had set something up to stop him, IN CASE, it didn’t work out. He hadn’t planned to fall down the rabbit hole, but he was smart enough to know it could happen. It was better than being reckless.

Jason
So… Have you put together the real reason I have dropped by this shit hole?


The change of topic was the only assurance Kris was going to get that his brother was ok. Sure, he had made a mistake, but Jason had found something inside what he had said that made him back off. Whether that was Ava, or some part of his actual story, he didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t ever know. Hangover aside, he knew exactly why his brother really stopped to see him in.

Kris
Still making excuses not to go home to the wife? Or is it that she and Ava, your former wrecking ball, are there together that is detracting you?


Jason rocks back on his heels with a comically surprised look on his face. He gives his best shot at a sarcastic gasp, and even raises his hands up to his face to cover it.

Jason
Ladies and gentlemen, albeit hungover the kid has a brain.


Kris allows himself a smile, and an accepting nod. If Jason was willing to be sarcastic, it meant that he really wanted to hide just how interested he was. Had he done nothing, Kris would have been able to see the genuine reaction he had. Jason would have tipped his hand and given Kris power over the conversation. They both knew this, but since it wasn’t out in the open they couldn’t reference it.

Kris
So I can chalk this up to a "Jay running scared" type of visit? I mean I knew you were rethinking this whole retirement gig, but I didn't think you would be running from your bride to be and a teenager.


Jason
It isn't like that. I have been pretty hushed about this whole project I am working on. The love fest between Ava and Haley is hardly a reason to really avoid Seattle. In all seriousness, I need a favor. Not necessarily one that needs to be made public either.


It was this side of his brother that he admired, and was absolutely terrified of at the same time. Kris got to see behind that mask. He doubted that even Haley would be able to have the conversation with Jason that he was about to have.

Kris
So its back to Blyss, huh? How did you put it exactly? You want me to “make sure she gets so twisted up inside that she implodes before the match” right?


The air quotes made it so much more entertaining to hear. Kris’ impression of his brother wasn’t too far off either. Though, he was still paraphrasing.

Jason
Right now she doesn't even know there is going to be one. She hurt me, we hurt her. Right now we are even. We don't do even, do we?


Kris smiles and sits up slightly.

Kris
No, you don't do even. I am more than happy with even. You are the one that has to weave elaborate plans to avoid being bored. Me? I am content to show up every week and do a match. I dont have to tour the world. I dont have to be rolling in a bed of cash. Why isn't even good enough for you?


Jason laughs and waves that question off.

Jason
Just chalk that up to you owing me a favor.


Kris didn't like all of these favors he owed his brother. There seems to be an unlimited balance on them.

Jason
Dont forget, you and Ava would have never happened without me. It was one of my "elaborate" plans that dropped that relationship into your lap. This one has already got you a little name recognition from working in IWF and you got Matthews to shell out some cash. Thats more than you would have gotten just working with SCW.


Kris put his hands together and clapped softly a few times. It really was an amazing sight. His brother was a master at spinning a story so that the actions he takes to benefit himself always appear for the greater good of everyone.

Kris
Sure. You've done me some good. All I had to do was throw on a black hoodie and attack the woman you think crippled you. Now I am just trying to enjoy my hangover headed into this match for SCW and you pop in. What do you want? You are talking in circles and not really saying anything.


It was Jason’s turn to put his hands together. He feigned surprise and rocks back on his heels and then holding his hands to his chest.

Jason
What do you have to stab me like that? Can't I just stop in to say hi?


The light fading from Kris' eyes gave him an answer to that before the kid even opened his mouth.

Kris
You always have a reason right?


Jason reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, tossing it into his brother’s lap. Kris turns it over in his hands, and quickly finds the button on the side to illuminate the screen. Kris looks up from it confused.

Jason
Flight plans sir. After the show, we have places to go and people to see. We have hands to shake and promotional pictures to take. So sober up, pull yourself together and lets move.


Kris rolled his eyes and tossed the phone back to his brother.

Kris
You can't make yourself busy enough to ignore family.


Kris sits up from his position and looks his brother in the eye, unbelieving.

Jason
….what?


Kris maintains eye contact with him.

Kris
Is that what you are trying to do? Making these plans, or continuing this IWF stuff even though you wont see the inside of the ring for… what? Six months? So you are showing up to harass me, and making all of these plans, for what? So you don’t have to sit at home and be normal.


Kris tries to say more but he loses the breath. Even in the haze that is the alcohol in his bloodstream, he can see it in his brother’s face.

Jason
Are you telling me that I can’t be normal? What is normal about getting wasted in a hotel room by yourself when you have a job to be doing? What is normal about dating a chick that used to be obsessed with your brother, huh? What’s normal about you?


This doesn’t strike the chord that he hoped it would with his little brother. He sits back, raising his arms up and cradling his head in the palms of his hands.

Kris
Nothing. I am a drug addict. I am a fuck up. I get to do shit like this because I am barely out of my teenage years. You, you are on the wrong side of thirty to be sitting in a hotel bathroom trying to deflect your bullshit onto me.


Jason looks away. That was a lot more truth than he was prepared to hear. People always tried to say that he was the smarter brother. That wasn’t necessarily the truth though. Kris was just as bright, but never had the willpower to see anything through. Their personalities were polar opposites. Their priorities were not even close to aligned. Now, Kris managed to pull this nugget of truth out of the bullshit. He had to give the kid props.

Jason
What is normal?


Kris averts his eyes by finding something interesting on the wall. He makes his brother wait almost painfully long for a response.

Kris
Fuck if I know man…. I am kind of hoping you figure that out so that when I am in your shoes, you aren’t some asshole in a bathtub pointing out my flaws.


Jason laughs and pushes himself up from his porcelain throne.

Jason
Haley would beat my ass if I passed out in a bathtub in some ass backwards hotel..


They both laugh.

Kris
Maybe that is what normal is supposed to be. Someone that stays home. Someone that doesn’t steal shit. Someone that doesn’t get wasted and beat their kids. You know… things we didn’t have.


He seems to think it over on his way out the door.

Jason
Get yourself cleaned up. Go win a match for once.




♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧
[ON-CAMERA]


The scene opens with Kris stepping out of a bar. The camera is on his right, and he turns that direction, comically surprised to see it standing there.

Kris
So it is almost like I called us arriving to this point.


He seems to almost immediately shake that thought away. He looks around at his surroundings with a frown on his face. He starts walking towards the camera.

Kris
I mean not necessarily “this” point. I mean not right here, where I am standing. What I mean is that everything comes full circle. Twenty-five years ago, about five minutes away from where we are right now, I was born. I grew up in this city. I started training in this city. I used to live under a bridge in this city. Every single up I have had, has been here. Most of my rock bottoms have been here as well. When I am here, it brings back all of those feelings. It brings back all of those memories.


He stops at a street corner, having walked the distance from the bar to the end of the block while talking. He mashed the crossing button, and then camera turns to show the crosswalk start to countdown to when the light will change. It turns back to the young talent, who is zipping up his jacket for what appears to be a chilled walk.

Kris
A couple of weeks ago I made my debut here. A lot of people put a lot into first impressions. I don’t. If I did, then I would be wasting my time being butt hurt over losing. More importantly, I would be wasting your time talking about it. Look at me now though. I’m home. I’m cheery. I’m all bloody smiles and rainbows.


The light finally changes so that he can make his way across the street. He seems to check all of his directions, even making sure nobody is following him out of the bar, before stepping out onto the street. The camera backpedals in front of him.

Kris
Apparently I was some kind of impressive in that match though. Apparently people saw something in me that was a little more than winning or losing. Gabriel Asar beat me as fairly as anyone beats anybody these days. Look at where it got him. He got the same week off treatment that I did, and now he is stuck opening the show and I am up for this Roulette Championship tournament. Like I said, I don’t put a lot into first impressions, but if he does, he should be ashamed of himself. Somehow he managed to win, and yet still lose. I managed to lose, but still win.


They move out of the road, starting to pass little shops and things of the sort as they do. Traffic, on the viewers right moves past, not paying any attention to the man chatting with the camera.

Kris
I haven’t had a ton of experience inside the ring yet. As a matter of fact, I can count the matches that I have had on one hand. One thing that I do know is, when you add more people to a match, I become exponentially more successful. Force 1 had a match with thirty something people in it for my first contest ever. Thirty something of those people ended up out of the match before me. Next week, a triple threat match. I won that one. The week after that was a fatal fourway. I didn’t lose then either. The one match that I did lose, was the one match that I had, one on one, right in the middle of that SCW ring two weeks ago.


They move into a large parking lot, and Kris starts to walk up the hill towards the hotel that can’t be seen from behind the camera. Although, for him, he realizes it means his time is drawing to a close.

Kris
So here is what I am trying to say, I may have misstepped in my first match here. If that is what you expect to happen to me every week, then you are going to be disappointed, sadly. I guess you could say that statistically, when my chances of winning should be going down, they only seem to be going up. If this triple threat match follows that trend, I am taking it easy. If the four corners match at Violent Conduct II follows suit, I am going to be walking out with a championship.


The camera starts to turn, and Kris walks past it. As the viewers are rotated, Kris turns with the camera so that he is still facing it. The giant hotel stands behind him, with a valet moving to park a car up the hill from them.

Kris
Ninja? Vince Peterson? I have no idea what to say to you two. I don’t know you. Neither of you know me. That makes for less of the chatty and nagging stuff before the match and more beating the hell out of each other. That’s nice. That works for me.


He raises his hands to his chest and then breathes deeply, exhaling all of the air with a smile on his face.

Kris
I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my chest. I feel like this is the start of something new for me. I am looking up in the air and all I see is bright lights and my name on a marquee. After all, my last name is already one that has been up on a lot of them. Vince? Ninja? Here’s hoping you two can don’t end up catching a SmackShot.


He turns away from the camera and waves back over his shoulder as he steps away towards the hotel.


52
Climax Control Archives / The Red
« on: August 02, 2014, 04:22:08 AM »
 Chevelle - The Red

Kris
One more and I have to catch a flight.

Jason moves around behind the drum kit. Now that his knee was more mobile he had made alterations to it since it was first set up. This cement cube that used to be a garage had become our own old school style garage set up. It was nicer than the one we had in those days. Not sure our parents were ever around, or near sober enough, to realize that we had cleaned out a section of their garage to put this stuff in. That garage was never used for cars. This one? Jay's and Haley's cars were so close that we could reach out and touch them. We had to keep the garage door open so the amps wouldn't blow the windows on them.

Jason
What do you want to play?

Kris
Here's what I am thinking.....

He doesn't recognize the first few notes, but I play the same bit of the opening a few times before he nods. These sessions we have had are all about throwing out all those old feelings and trying to move past. This was a big monster though. One that existed not just for one of us but for both of us.

Kris
They say freak. When you're singled out..... The red.... well it filters through.

He doesnt look up, instead from drum to drum from left to right and then each symbol from right left. I can tell he feels a little uncomfortable. A forced smile crosses his face and he gives me a few kicks of the bass and then rolls around the toms a few times. He finds the rhythm he is looking for despite the closed high hat and just holds to it, looking up at me. I step back to where the microphone stands, and stay facing him. He seems to be waiting for me to start, smacking his microphone away and letting the bar swivel it away from his kit. At once he is back and focused on the drums though.  He keeps his hands moving, probably absent mindedly and sits up a little towards the hanging microphone.

Kris
So lay down, the threat is real, when his sight goes red again....

The nights being woken up by things crashing in another room. The screams that led to the door of our bedroom. They are almost so loud I forget how to play. I am six again and I am terrified.

Kris
Seeing red again! Seeing red again!

Jason is on the floor screaming. I run from our bedroom to the hallway. Its seven steps to the kitchen table. The first thing he throws when he is angry is the chairs, so sliding under it is easy.

Kris
This change, he won't contain. Slip away, to clear your mind.

Think about something else. Something happy. Anything but what you know is happening to your big brother. Get up from under the table. The door is right there. Go out into the backyard. The shed is always open. We have the little cubby in there. Two blankets and a pillow.

Kris
When asked, who made it show, the truth, he gives in to most.

Dad will fall asleep soon. He will wear himself out. Probably wont even notice I am gone. Maybe wont notice. Maybe doesn't care. Jason will come get me when its over. It will all be ok in a minute.

Kris
So lay down, the threat is real, when his sight goes red again.....

The lights start to go out. I cant hear them screaming anymore. Maybe he already already himself down. Then I hear it. Steps outside. Is he coming out here? Did Jay tell him where I went?  No. He wouldnt do that.

Kris
So lay down, the threat is real, when his sight goes red again....

The steps go away. Back to the truck. It starts and the gears grind. That god awful noise followed by a backfire. He is leaving. That has to be good right?

Kris
So lay down, the threat is real, when his sight goes red again....

I snap out of it. I hadn't missed a beat. The look on Jay's face tells me the same thoughts were running through his mind.

Kris
They say freak...

(.... when your eyes are blacked...)

Kris
When you're singled out....

(... with bruises always new...)

Kris
The red, it filters through...

We both broke broke down from the song. I ran the chords higher and higher until I was walking them down towards the base of the guitar. He lit the snare up before rolling through the standing toms. The cymbals crashed seemingly all at once, and before the kick cut us both off at the same time..

Jason
I didnt know if you were old enough to remember all of that.

I take a few steps to the new racks on the wall and hang the guitar up as he moves himself back from the kit and found his support cane. He has pulled himself back around the front of the kit by the time I turn around.

Kris
I was six. Dont you remember shit from when you were that young.

He laughed. There was a kind of desperation in it that I dont think he meant to show. Of course he probably remembers it. The beatings most likely went on longer than I could ever hope to imagine. By the times my memory starts the running away, the cut path to the doorway, that stuff was already ingrained in me. Who knows when Jay mapped that out. Maybe it was always for Lindsey. Maybe it was never even meant for me.

Jason
I was hoping the drug years may have knocked those memories out for good. Thats not the kind of stuff I like to dwell on kid.

That was what the desperation in his voice was. His will to be the only one left alive to carry the burden of it. I could be honest here. I could tell him that I still wake up some nights in a panic like he is shaking me awake to hide in the corner behind the door so I can make a run for it once he gets into the room. I could just slip by while Jay laid down and provoked with whatever words came to mind. I would burden him by letting him know that it is all still vivid for me. There is no reason to pile that on him though.

Kris
Its hazy, you know? Like trying to remember a dream after you wake up. There are bits and pieces, but nothing much. I know something like that happened a lot. I cant pull out details though. Probably not like you can.

The relief on his face made the lie worth telling. He carries so much. I can shoulder my part of this one. Its the least I can do for being the weight o have been on him for the last six years.

Jason
Doesnt matter. Just... good luck in this SCW thing. Forget all that kid shit. You have to focus on winning something and not mucking up my last name.

He wanted me to go but he wasn't concerned with the match. I could tell that much. The jab at me was half hearted at best. I had really stirred some shit up this time.

Kris
It might be your name now, but that shadow I am in shrinks everyday you are on that cane.

This lit his face up. It gave me everything I needed to know. He could let it fall away. He could shrug it off and he lived with it for five years longer than I did. He took everything thrown at him and was still good enough to make a name for himself. At the same time, it made that name that much harder to live up to.

Jason
Youre going to have K-Halc written in the lights.

We both had a chuckle

Kris
To with that man. I dont want to mimic your shit name.

_________________________________________________________


[On-Camera]

Kris
I could insult you.

The scene starts with one simple sentence. A camera sits in front of the new SCW signee, with the backdrop being some kind of flowered wall paper that has come to define hotel rooms.

Kris
I could demean you. I could tear you apart, and leave you only hoping that you could put yourself back together before it was time for our match.

The camera starts to zoom out from the newcomer's face, showing his entire torso now.

Kris
... but I am not going to do that. See, I dont know you. The only thing I do know about you is that you are the kind of guy that likes to talk big on twitter after shamelessly flirting with those mentally challenged females blabbering about doing their nails. Thats cool man. I get it. Thats your thing.

He sits back in the chair and looks around the room, organizing his thoughts.

Kris
SCW says we have clashing styles. That means you are either going to take me to the mat, or I am going to run circles around you until you get dizzy and make a mistake. Only one can happen. Which will it be? I am not so full of myself that I can guarantee it will go my way.

He interlaces his fingers in from of his chest and leans forward into the camera.

Kris
People are putting bets on me to win this one because of what my last name is. People see my brother as the XWA Triple Crown or the IWF Champion of Champions. The guy six years deep with a resume ten pages long. Heres the problem with their thinking though...... I'm not him.

He reaches out and scoops up the camera.

Kris
My resume isnt as long, my career isn't as decorated. Im not six years deep. However,  I'm faster, I'm younger, and I am out to prove I am better. That, my friend, is a problem for you.

__________


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