“You did well but it wasn’t meant to be”
Ouch.
“Would have been better if she had just beat the piss out of me,” Miles says, tossing his phone into the abyss of his bag, while taking a swig of his beer. It’d been a week since she sent that, he hadn’t responded.
He was too embarrassed.
Yeah, the swagger, the pomp and circumstance led to him wallowing in self-pity. And he knows he is the sole reason that Maki didn’t get her revenge or walk away with the Mixed Tag Titles. Damn Lethal Lottery.
There was a feeling, he was willing to meet up with Maki and get his ass beat. In fact it probably would have made him feel something more than the numbness that he’s been dealing with. Amazon never questioned his rush order for the kendo stick. He got the call from the hotel in Vegas that he had a package awaiting his return. For now...he decided to stare out into absolute nothingness of the Pacific Ocean because well what better way to look into what you feel?
YES I AM BEING AN EMO BITCH RIGHT NOW, GOD DAMMIT!!!!
Angsty.
What the ever loving fuck ever!!!!
Ho-KAY, Milo is in a mood.
“NO! No, don’t do that. Fuck this internal monologue shite you are trying to pull. I am a fuck up, alright? I know that, they know that and at this point I should just take a long walk off a short pier or find myself on the business end of a gun because my life is a Goddamn joke.”
Miles looking up and talking to absolutely no one in particular, well...to me, the person narrating this...cause he’s a prick. I get paid peanuts for this ya know, mate? How about a little thanks?
“Blow me.”
You know, I don’t have to put up with this! I could leave your arse high and dry too!
“You and the entire world, pal. Don’t do me any favours.”
How about we switch to whiskey?
“Out”
Vodka?
“Out.”
...Rum?
“I...I don’t recall...”
Curiously, peaking into the cabinet he pulls out a bottle, completely full. ....some pirate.
“OI! I was saving it for a special occasion.”
Like on the occasion that they find your body?
“Psh, as if anyone would come searching for me.”
Drink the fucking rum, Milo.
“No, don’t drink the rum.”
That voice...“What the-”
*THUD*
Through the haze, a pair of Chuck Taylors, that kicks him onto his back. He looks up at a hazy outline. “Are you an angel?”
“Something like that...night night Milo.”
Oh look...stars....second one to the right...
Being dragged into a darkened room by two rather large goons, the concept of time has completely escaped him but the shine of the lights through the window tells him he’s back in Las Vegas.
“Pathetic boy. I cannot believe that he let her follow you to the desert and back. Did your balls somehow retract back into your body when he took her back? Get over yourself.”
“BAR, please. I got it from here.”
“Someday he’ll know.”
“But for now...go. I won’t be long.” the door opens and closes as we see the familiar outline kneel down, Miles eyes slightly cracking open and squinting trying to make out who is next to him as he was dumped onto the bed, “We brought you back to Vegas. I don’t know if you’ll remember anything from the last week but it’s alright. You have a way back to the family that actually cares about you now.”
Miles tries to talk but it just comes out as a gurgle.
“Shhh, don’t try to talk, my love. I need you to know that I did what I did to protect you. He was ready to kill you and I wasn’t going to let that happen, especially when I found that ring you were going to give me.”
Miles shuts his eyes tight for a moment and opens them wide, finally able to make out the figure. “Ness.”
“You are an idiot and a half Milo Kasey, and I love you....but it’s time for you to wake up, pull yourself together and quit feeling bad. Be the badass mother fucker that exists,” she leans forward and places a kiss on his head, “WAKE UP!”
Miles' eyes burst open and he sits up, and looks around the room. He’s indeed back in Vegas, the package that was at the front desk is there, unwrapped with a big red bow on top of it with a note sitting on top of it. He glances around and the room is dimly lit and empty but he rubs his face and runs his hands through his messed up hair, not bothering to tame it. He rolls out of bed with a groan and stumbles over picking the note up, immediately recognizing the handwriting he almost smiles, “Quit beating yourself up and go beat someone up.”
He picks up the stick, twirls around and purposely smacks himself in the head. “Ow” he laughs though, rubbing his head. He hears his phone go off, looks around and notices it on the charger. “Guess she thought of everything.”
Picking it up he opens it up to a message, “Miles, hope this finds you well. I know you’ve had a tough go of it lately but we still believe you can be something special. This week...blah blah blah....Jack’d the Ripper.” he snickers for a moment before bursting out loud laughing, “So, let me get this proper, the powers that be want to see if I have a David vs. Goliath DEATHWISH as they put me in the ring with someone that I’m fairly certain is wanted in 6 countries on attempted murder charges.”
“Look, I get that it seems like I have this open invitation to Death himself, wanting to just send me to hell and leave it at that. But fact does remain that despite popular opinion I really do like remaining among the living.” he lifts up the gift that was to be for one but instead looks like it’s gonna remain with him for the time being, “I want to live. For the first time in months that that actually feels real for me to say. So pardon me Jack’d if I feel like perhaps I don’t give your rather massive frame a chance to breathe. And I know people are saying that maybe I do feel like I’m out to die, maybe I am having a rough go because I fucked up a lot of things. I’m waiting to hear how much of a loser I am. And once again, right in the ears and straight to the feelings. I feel like I’m actually ready to fight for something....”
He flips the stick a few times, swings it and completely shatters a bottle. He swings it around and places it on his shoulder and dives back into the bed, “And fight I shall.”
