Show Posts
1
Climax Control Archives / thebutterflyeffect 7.0 🎔 family matters
« on: May 24, 2024, 11:02:27 PM »
the butterfly effect 7.0 ❤ family matters
❤❤❤❤❤
I wasn’t happy with how we won.
I can’t say that Artie was, either, but I didn’t get the chance to say anything. He stormed off into the back with Bobbie and by the time I got back into the back, they were gone. I know it must have hurt to think that everyone thought he wasn’t going to be able to do anything, but I mean…we’ve all trained for this, we wanted to be a part of this, and Artie…well, he didn’t. It was a catch 22 and I felt bad, but at the same time, I was also angry. I know Miles and Fenris had been working with Artie. But Miles getting involved? And saying stuff all week about Wolfslair when he abandoned us?
It didn’t make sense. None of it really made sense, and I knew eventually I would be confronting Mr. Kasey whenever I saw him next. Not that it would be any time soon – he never came to New York for anything.
Nevertheless, I decided to make a pitstop to Colorado on the way home. Being in one of those mythological sites, being able to be a part of history for a moment – I could have bet that my dad was so stoked about it, since he was an ancient history buff. And besides, it wasn’t like they’d seen Dax…really at all, to be honest.
Flying into Denver International was always a trip, and I found myself running forward and jumping on the travelators that existed on all the concourses, getting excited every time I saw one. The train back to the main terminal was great, and Aiden merely laughed at me as I gleefully hung onto the rails and stared out the window into the cold concrete tunnels.
Aurora wasn’t far from the airport – not even fifteen miles. My parents lived in a nice four bedroom house that they’d purchased upon arrival back into the city. My mother had somehow finagled it so that she never had to be stationed anywhere else, and continued to make her ten minute drive down to Buckley Air Force Base for work every day. It was a constant cycle that really never deviated, even when Zach and I lived here. Dad would make breakfast, she’d go off to work, he’d head for his lectures at Denver Metro and then they’d both come home, eat dinner, watch television and go to bed.
When we pulled up, no one came out to greet us. It was a Tuesday, so I assumed my mother had gone off to work and my father was somewhere in the household. But there were cars in the driveway, so maybe it was an off day in their schedule. I picked up Dax, set him on my hip, and then put in the code on the garage to open the door. I had a key, and maybe I could have knocked, but there was no point. It wasn’t like they ever checked their phones for their Ring they installed a couple years ago.
Aiden and I entered the kitchen from the garage. “Mom? Dad?” I called, waiting to hear some kind of response. In all honesty, I didn’t expect to hear anything from them.
“Downstairs!” I heard my dad call.
Of course, I’d called them before just showing up, but that was in our layover in Vancouver and I’m fairly certain my dad has the memory of a bot fly. With Dax on my hip, I descended down the staircase into the basement and set my feet on the floor. It looked different down here – the carpet was gone, replaced by vinyl, and the backyard seemed to be remodeled.
My father sat at his desk that looked outside into the backyard in an offshoot of the main room with a door. It was new – this hadn’t been here when I lived here, and it must have been his version of a mancave. He was surrounded by his books and his annals, and pictures of the Athenian Acropolis and Roman Colosseum were visible on the wall. He turned around and looked at me with a wide, but tired smile. “Hey Kallibear.” He said, rising to his feet.
“Hi Dad,” I smiled. He stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, kissing my forehead, and then looked behind me and extended his hand like he always did to Aiden, shaking it. I used to get upset by it, but Aiden and I learned a long while ago that my family wouldn’t really ever accept him. They were cordial, but they thought I could do better. I’m sure they told Zach the same thing too, and they all commiserate on it.
“What brings you into town?” He asked, guiding us out of the office and back out into the family room.
“We were on our way back from Turkey…” I started, and his ears literally perked up. He looked at me. “The show was in um…Hisarlik?” I looked at Aiden. “Right?”
“Troy?” My dad questioned. He didn’t reach for Dax, he didn’t ask to see him. I held him as I sat down on the sectional. “I suppose it would make sense for a wrestling show to be there. How was it?”
I frowned slightly. My family and I had sort of a strained relationship, in a sense. They weren’t happy with my choice to become a professional wrestler, but they also didn’t stop me. They weren’t happy with my choice to marry an Australian, but they still also didn’t stop me. Instead, they always made references to what I could have done, or showed a bit of interest, but not enough for it to be interesting to them. I thought, though, they could have at least turned it on long enough to see my matches.
“Kallisto did great,” Aiden said for me, respectfully addressing my father. “Like she always does.”
“Well then that’s great…” he trailed off, and then looked at me. “Have I told you about the archaeological dig they’re doing in Egypt right now? It’s fascinating, they’re unearthing Saqqara…”
And then he was off, talking about his interests. And what he wanted to talk about.
I regretted coming home at all.
❤❤❤❤❤
If you asked me at the beginning of this tournament if I would have gotten here, I would probably have some complicated answers. If I were cocky and confident, I would say that, yes, I expected myself to be here because I know how good I can be. Or, also yes, but by luck alone. Last week, Artie and I had the pleasure of facin’ off against Cordelia Clark and Justin Smith, and while we won, I can’t say I’m happy about the win.
I mean, I know that Fenris and Miles have been training with Artie. And all the better for it, right? I’m not a part of that, and I don’t really belong in that scene, but to have Miles Kasey come down and save our match up…for why? I mean, I know he’s new pals with everyone, but he kinda like…forsook all of Wolfslair when he was having his rebellion crisis a few months back. Miles hasn’t been in Wolfslair for months, and all of a sudden, he wants to root for us and push us forward, help us?
Something sounds sketch, and I don’t trust him. Like. He abandoned us. Finn put him in his place, and while he became an Internet Champion without us, he still forgot about all of us. Wolfslair is a family. We’re not blood, and blood doesn’t run thicker than water either. But we have each other’s back, we support one another, we want to be around one another…and Miles erased us as soon as he could.
That hurt. I thought he was my friend. I thought that he was someone that would always be there, like everyone else is. But he wasn’t, and he has the audacity to put his nose into my business because he’s helping out someone else?
It was sad. And like, it makes me sad, because I don’t trust him.
After all was said and done, when I got back to New York City this week, I sat down with my mentor at Wolfslair. You don’t know her, and that’s okay, but Aaron Asphyxia was wonderful in her own day, and boy, did she also let me know that she was disappointed in my prowess. For a second, I wondered why. I wondered why she would be disappointed when in Sin City Wrestling, I’m four and one. Across wrestling, I’m like, twenty and seven and that’s like some positive percentage. Even with Miles comin’ in and, like, doing what he did, Artie and I came out with the win and we continue on in the tournament.
But she told me why.
It’s because I lost my oomph.
My sparkle.
The thing that makes me me.
And maybe it’s true, but I don’t think it’s permanent. Blast From the Past was really just a chance for me to sit there and get some experience under my belt in this company. I won’t like, lie at all…I never thought that I would get to the end of it, or even to the semi-finals. Like I said, it would have been by sheer luck, but now that we’re here…she told me I need to figure myself out.
As a kid, I was never one of those high achievers. I wasn’t like Finn, or Kayla, or even Johanna. I did what I did, and what I was good at made me happy. Cheerleading, gymnastics, ice skating – I wasn’t inactive, and I worked at what I did. Things came easy to me. I was always flexible, I learned to move quickly. So when I became a wrestler, things came easy for me. Until I got to Wolfslair, and until I got to some of my more prominent places, I didn’t have to try hard.
But Aaron reminded me that eventually, skating by won’t get me by, and at some point, I’m going to have to sit down and actually grit my teeth and get into it. This next match isn’t going to be Bea Barnhart. And as much of a fight angry Cordelia put up last week, we barely squished in. So now, when I look ahead and see what’s in front me…I realize that my usual method of going in and doing my best and hoping that my best is good enough isn’t going to work.
I have to do my best. That means that I have to come at this from a different angle. That I need to look at this not as just another match, but a match that has my life on the line. Everything that I hold dear to my heart needs to be thought of as I do this match. Aiden, because he believes in me to carry on where he couldn’t. Kayla, my bestie, because she’s waiting at the end of the line for me. At least, right now she is. And I believe that she will also be the champion after her match with Julianna DiMaria, because no matter what anyone thinks, Kayla has always put business first. And I have to do my best for Daxie, because he is my heart and my soul and my stars and everything I love, and I want to make everyone in my life proud to know me.
I don’t ever want to walk into Wolfslair again and have the feeling of disappointment saturatin’ the whole building. As much as I, like, love my real family, Wolfslair is just as much a family to me as anything else. We push each other, we build one another up – even if we don’t like each other. Hell, Aiden and my brother can’t stand one another, but if it meant success for the team, they would fight like hell together to win. I don’t want to come back there with egg on my face and a sad moment of regret this week that I didn’t do enough. I want to walk in there, and feel like I’ve made them all proud that I’m a part of them.
Do you know what that’s like?
Do either of you know what that’s like?
Like, is that why you bounce from company to company, Sean? And what about you, Luna? You an’ your hubby seem super angry about something that you feel exists.
Do either of you know what it’s like to have people feel proud of you?
I’m sorry guys, in this semi-final for the Blast From the Past, you’re not gonna get happy-go-lucky Kalliekins. You’re getting the one trained by some of the best. And while I’m gonna still be nice…
You’re not going to like what I have to say.
❤❤❤❤❤
It was later in the day that my mother came home. She was dressed in her Air Force navy blue uniform, complete with the skirt, and took off her hat as she entered the door. My mother, Brigadier General Lauren Reznikski, hung her uniform jacket up in the closet and set everything as neatly as possible within it so that she could retrieve it in the morning. I looked a lot like my mother, with soft hazel eyes and blonde hair. Hers, of course, was in a tightly slicked back bun that was off her collar, no matter what the new regulations said.
“Kenneth,” she said quietly. That was my mother’s tone of voice all the time – almost silent, barely above a whisper. I swear that was more frightening as a child than anything else. “There is a rental car in front of the house. Perhaps we need to contact the HOA–”
She turned the corner. We were all in the kitchen, Aiden actually at the stove, cooking up some spaghetti bolognese. Dax and I sat at the counter, him on the counter in front of me and I was playing with him as he sat there, on his own. He giggled and cooed heavily and laughed hysterically as Aiden adopted an extremely high nasal tone and kept sayin’ “Hi, how’s it goin’?”
“Hi Mom,” I said when I saw her, giving her a smile.
She barely even smiled back. She looked at where I had Dax and frowned. “You should probably play on the floor, Kallisto. The baby could fall.”
My smile faded and I looked at Dax, who giggled again. He was the baby, not even a name she could remember. Aiden looked at me from the stove and then piped up again, “Ah, Mrs. Reznikski, the tyke isn’t gonna move, hey. He’s just gigglin’ up a storm.”
“Oh, well…” my mother smiled, but it was a cold one. “I must have missed the chapter on poor choices in my parenting schema.” She turned her head and sniffed the air. “What is that smell?”
“Ah, it’s mince with a bit of–”
“It is what?”
“Mince,” I interjected. “It’s ground beef, Mom. That’s just what the Australians call it.”
Another cold smile. “Well, we’re in America, so perhaps we should call it what the Americans call it.”
Neither of us could say anything as she walked out of the room. I looked up at Aiden, who shrugged his shoulders. Her behavior embarrassed me on most occasions, and more than once I hoped that time would heal how she approached my relationship with Aiden. He was remarkably calm about it, as if he knew what it was like to be the disliked partner. Even when we were first dating, and we went to my house to meet my parents the first time, I would apologize profusely when she kept interrupting him to ask him what he said because she couldn’t understand his accent.
She could. She just wanted to be snarky about it.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here…” I started.
“Nah, love,” he shook his head, “you wanted to come see your family and get some time in with Dax, yeah? They’ll be right. Your dad did some readin’ with ‘em today, and yer mum–”
“Mom still calls him the baby.” I turned Dax to look at his father, and he cooed again. “How could you not say anything sweet about this face!” I pointed at his rosy cheeks.
“Just a reminder that her little girl is gone and now is a woman makin’ her own choices,” he pointed the spoon he’d just had in the sauce at me. “She doesn’t like it, and she’s gonna rebel. Let her be a child about it and pout.”
Aiden didn’t always offer sage advice, on account of everyone thinking he was a complete idiot. And he was content to let them think that too, because no one expected anything of him. I suspected it was honestly a buffer to his past – of which he gave me snippets of, but never let me know all of it. That was also okay. I wasn’t horribly angry about it. I just wanted him to be okay.
I nodded and looked at my baby, fully engrossed in him now. He was a year and a half almost, sitting up on his own, babbling his own words, imitating us. He knew how to say mama and dada, bottle, the unusual words that we said to him often enough.
“Besides,” Aiden added, “if she doesn’t get with the program, we can just tell her it’s fuckin’ bullshite and move on.”
Dax looked back at him, and then looked at me. “Fuhcen boolsheet!” He raised a hand with small rebellion.
Aiden stared at him and snorted. The color drained from my face though, although I wanted to laugh too. Eventually, I would tell him that wasn’t okay to say, but right now, the imitation was hilarious. I shook my head as my mother rentered the room, dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt that was tucked in. She would never be caught dead appearing anything less than perfect.
“I suppose I should check out the child,” she said, stepping forward and looking at him. She reached forward and picked him up, examining him as she held him up like Simba from the Lion King. “He seems healthy. Are you feeding him his proper nutritional cycle?”
“Yeah,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “He gets food four times a day, and he’s starting to eat solids. Doesn’t really like green beans though…”
Dax knew exactly what I was saying, because he shook his head and slammed his eyes shut. “Fuhcen boolsheet!” He yelled.
My mother glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. I shrugged, but inwardly, I wanted to die. She was disappointed. And there was nothing more disappointing than a mother who hated her child.
❤❤❤❤❤
Let’s talk about you first, Sean, shall we? A lot of people like to bring up the fact that you’re like…everywhere. I’ve been in a couple of companies at the same time, but you bounce around more than like…what’s his name…Matt Knox? Does. There’s one thing to say that you go from place to place, providing your talents and like…services…
Oh, don’t mistake me at all, okay? Like, it’s cool that you can bounce around to the Trials, and NPWA, and like, XWF, and all the places that everyone frequents. It’s like one big party and I guess I shouldn’t be, like, super surprised at everything you can do. I’m sure you make someone super proud. It’s just there there’s a saying for staying exclusive to a company. You gain more respect, and the rest of the roster doesn’t end up lookin’ at ya like an usurper to the progress everyone else has. Mark Cross over there comes in once yearly, sometimes wins the tourney and then ultimately loses and we all kinda have a giggle about it.
But I guess it’s like, here’s everyone ya know too. Your buddies you…erm…hang out with, they’ve graced these halls. You know Alexander Raven, who happens to be the husband of your partner, Luna Pasilno. And you knew Matthew Knox, who kinda comes around like the plague every so often and disappears when he doesn’t like…get accolades. I mean, you’re as guilty as the company you keep, ya know? That’s why my mom always instilled in me growin’ up so that I’d have good, ethical people around me. Especially since I’m such a rule follower…
But you’ve done pretty well. I know you’re gonna say all this hoopla about how you guys are great and me and Artie aren’t…but that’s where you’re wrong, mmkay? See, while you’re galavantin’ all over the world, Artie works here. He works hard, and from the minute he got thrown into this thing, he’s had the thought of proving everyone wrong. You can’t tell me the first thought that went through your brain wasn’t that this was gonna be a cake walk, right? Right.
I know Cordy-Wardy last week was all about saying how somehow everyone believes we were gonna make it into the finals, but I find that super hard to believe. You saw Artie and you assumed that you had it in the bag if you had to face us. He, the ROOKIE-Rookie and me, the Semi-Rookie who just had a baby last year and seems to be plucky as heck. I mean, at first I thought I was doomed, but then I got to work with him. And he is wonderful, okay? A little rough around the edges, but he fights hard and he doesn’t relent just cause people think less of him.
So Sean, I think you’re gonna find that this might be a little bit harder than your well-travelled butt was thinkin’. Artie’s got a lot of friendos in the back, and they’re rootin’ for him just as hard as my friends are rootin’ for me. Sometimes they get involved when they shouldn’t, and believe me, we’re gonna be havin’ some words about that when I see ‘em next, but I want you to be prepared. This isn’t gonna be easy. This isn’t gonna be fun. Artie is gonna fight harder than you expect, and I just want you to make sure that you take this as seriously as he’s takin’ it.
We want to be champions.
We’re going to be champions.
And now, I know I’m supposed to devote a lot of time to Luna, but I feel kinda like that’s what she wants. You know, being part of The Conspiracy. This awful thought that they’re stuck in this kinda Rocky Horror Time Warp where they can’t leave because Christian and Mark seem to have their figurative b…balls in a sling. Gosh, that was hard to say. She calls herself The Idol, but I wanna question that…like…
An idol is an image of someone or something to worship. A symbol. Like historically – my dad would get all excited about this – in Egypt, there were idols made for all of the gods, and they would wash them daily, they would leave offerings for them to eat. They were someone to love.
You make it really hard to love you, Luna.
Oh, I’m sure Mr. Raven does. I’m sure he loves you and would move the sun and the stars for you, but let’s face it. No one here loves you, and no one here can be forced to love you. Because you’re stuck here, you’re throwing what equates to a temper tantrum. Listening to you week in and week out talk about how you don’t deserve this and that, and that what you deserve is to be on top of this whole field…it’s grating. Extremely grating, and not all that deserving of veneration.
You talk about how everyone thinks you’re crazy. I don’t think you’re crazy…per se, I just don’t think you’ve had positive attention for anything….like…ever. You’re constantly fightin’ this battle that exists for primarily you and the mirror; you keep talkin’ about how no one thinks of you as a decent competitor. That you’ve had to prove yourself by throwing people into tables and being an absolute monster.
Funny story!
I’ve done that too. My first company was totally a deathmatch company, and like, I won the Brightburn Championship in a street fight in a frickin’ like…aquarium. I used a piiiiirrrranha to bite my opponents arm and I threw her into the tank and there was water everywhere, and–
Sorry, I got excited.
See, that’s the thing I love about this business. The crazier it is, the more fun it is, and like…this opportunity that lays in front of all of us is crazy. It lays out the best contenders, it brings out the best in people. I want to win this just as much as you do, and as much as you’re like, salivating to see your hunny at the end, you have to also face the fact that if you pass me, you might have to face him.
And that’s never a good thing, especially for your cohorts in crime.
You were confident and you were certain against Roux…more confident and certain than you were when you faced Courtney last year. Even when you had a one up on Zoey Lukas, and when you’ve faced Kat Jones over and over again like she actually like…matters…at this point. So I gotta assume that you’re gonna come up confident against me and you should be! Just like I am against you.
This isn’t a one-sided battle between us, Lulu. I’m good at what I do and I can cause much more damage than you think. Because like...I’m not just a cute little blonde with a happy-go-lucky personality and a silly husband. I’m not just a rookie who doesn’t deserve to be here. I’m a fighter, I’m a member of Wolfslair, and I am one-hundred-percent more interested in kicking your butt so that I can get higher and higher. You need this opportunity to fix your blunders in this company. Me? I need this so I can prove to you, and to every other woman in this tournament that I deserve to be here. That I want to be here, and that I can do all the same things that everyone else can.
Want me to slam you into a burning table? Sure.
Want me to hurl you into a glass case? I mean, that doesn’t feel so good, but bring me one and we can do it.
I want this. I want the opportunity. I want to help Artie succeed in his endeavors, and I want to make sure that my name goes down in infamy as a leader in this company. I look at my friends and I see what they can do, and I know that with their strength behind me, I can do anything that I put my mind to.
And that means defeating you, Luna. Defeating you and Sean Parker, who’s here for a cup of coffee and probably gone tomorrow when the title opportunity fades into like…dust. Fwoosh, there it goes.
You’re gonna underestimate me. Just like everyone else does, but unlike everyone else, I think you’re gonna understand where I come from. They don’t want people like us at the top, Luna. They don’t want people with drive, and they want people they can control. But the less control that there is, that means the more eventful the end result.
Assuming Kayla wins the championship again? What better to be seen than Kayla Richards facing her bestie and hurling all the insults she can at her while simultaneously knowing that said bestie is gonna fire back at her? The War of Friends, the War of Fam, the War of Bestie. BESTIE TROUBLE! I would pay for it.
Because Kay and I would make it something special. You? I mean, I know you’ve gotten better and more resilient in this company, but let’s face it Lu…when it comes to the things that matter…you choke harder than like…the chick in 50 Shades of Gray. You’ve had so many opportunities, and what have they given you except a bad attitude and a bitter mouth?
I may have lost to Harper, but at least I kept that with grace in my hand. I could never be as bitter or self-centered as you, my new friend. Because I want to face the best, and if I lose? Then I’ve learned something.
But don’t mistake me, kay? Luna, Sean…I don’t care that you guys think you’ve got the best ticket in the house. Artie and I are gonna come up in your zone and we’re gonna kick butt. You can bet on that. And when your backs are on the mat, I’ma come over and raise your hand. Because you’re good at what you do. But you’re not me.
Like, good luck, new friend! I wish you the very best, and I hope we have a great match.
I’ll see you on the other side, okay?
Peace!
❤❤❤❤❤
I wasn’t happy with how we won.
I can’t say that Artie was, either, but I didn’t get the chance to say anything. He stormed off into the back with Bobbie and by the time I got back into the back, they were gone. I know it must have hurt to think that everyone thought he wasn’t going to be able to do anything, but I mean…we’ve all trained for this, we wanted to be a part of this, and Artie…well, he didn’t. It was a catch 22 and I felt bad, but at the same time, I was also angry. I know Miles and Fenris had been working with Artie. But Miles getting involved? And saying stuff all week about Wolfslair when he abandoned us?
It didn’t make sense. None of it really made sense, and I knew eventually I would be confronting Mr. Kasey whenever I saw him next. Not that it would be any time soon – he never came to New York for anything.
Nevertheless, I decided to make a pitstop to Colorado on the way home. Being in one of those mythological sites, being able to be a part of history for a moment – I could have bet that my dad was so stoked about it, since he was an ancient history buff. And besides, it wasn’t like they’d seen Dax…really at all, to be honest.
Flying into Denver International was always a trip, and I found myself running forward and jumping on the travelators that existed on all the concourses, getting excited every time I saw one. The train back to the main terminal was great, and Aiden merely laughed at me as I gleefully hung onto the rails and stared out the window into the cold concrete tunnels.
Aurora wasn’t far from the airport – not even fifteen miles. My parents lived in a nice four bedroom house that they’d purchased upon arrival back into the city. My mother had somehow finagled it so that she never had to be stationed anywhere else, and continued to make her ten minute drive down to Buckley Air Force Base for work every day. It was a constant cycle that really never deviated, even when Zach and I lived here. Dad would make breakfast, she’d go off to work, he’d head for his lectures at Denver Metro and then they’d both come home, eat dinner, watch television and go to bed.
When we pulled up, no one came out to greet us. It was a Tuesday, so I assumed my mother had gone off to work and my father was somewhere in the household. But there were cars in the driveway, so maybe it was an off day in their schedule. I picked up Dax, set him on my hip, and then put in the code on the garage to open the door. I had a key, and maybe I could have knocked, but there was no point. It wasn’t like they ever checked their phones for their Ring they installed a couple years ago.
Aiden and I entered the kitchen from the garage. “Mom? Dad?” I called, waiting to hear some kind of response. In all honesty, I didn’t expect to hear anything from them.
“Downstairs!” I heard my dad call.
Of course, I’d called them before just showing up, but that was in our layover in Vancouver and I’m fairly certain my dad has the memory of a bot fly. With Dax on my hip, I descended down the staircase into the basement and set my feet on the floor. It looked different down here – the carpet was gone, replaced by vinyl, and the backyard seemed to be remodeled.
My father sat at his desk that looked outside into the backyard in an offshoot of the main room with a door. It was new – this hadn’t been here when I lived here, and it must have been his version of a mancave. He was surrounded by his books and his annals, and pictures of the Athenian Acropolis and Roman Colosseum were visible on the wall. He turned around and looked at me with a wide, but tired smile. “Hey Kallibear.” He said, rising to his feet.
“Hi Dad,” I smiled. He stood and placed a hand on my shoulder, kissing my forehead, and then looked behind me and extended his hand like he always did to Aiden, shaking it. I used to get upset by it, but Aiden and I learned a long while ago that my family wouldn’t really ever accept him. They were cordial, but they thought I could do better. I’m sure they told Zach the same thing too, and they all commiserate on it.
“What brings you into town?” He asked, guiding us out of the office and back out into the family room.
“We were on our way back from Turkey…” I started, and his ears literally perked up. He looked at me. “The show was in um…Hisarlik?” I looked at Aiden. “Right?”
“Troy?” My dad questioned. He didn’t reach for Dax, he didn’t ask to see him. I held him as I sat down on the sectional. “I suppose it would make sense for a wrestling show to be there. How was it?”
I frowned slightly. My family and I had sort of a strained relationship, in a sense. They weren’t happy with my choice to become a professional wrestler, but they also didn’t stop me. They weren’t happy with my choice to marry an Australian, but they still also didn’t stop me. Instead, they always made references to what I could have done, or showed a bit of interest, but not enough for it to be interesting to them. I thought, though, they could have at least turned it on long enough to see my matches.
“Kallisto did great,” Aiden said for me, respectfully addressing my father. “Like she always does.”
“Well then that’s great…” he trailed off, and then looked at me. “Have I told you about the archaeological dig they’re doing in Egypt right now? It’s fascinating, they’re unearthing Saqqara…”
And then he was off, talking about his interests. And what he wanted to talk about.
I regretted coming home at all.
❤❤❤❤❤
If you asked me at the beginning of this tournament if I would have gotten here, I would probably have some complicated answers. If I were cocky and confident, I would say that, yes, I expected myself to be here because I know how good I can be. Or, also yes, but by luck alone. Last week, Artie and I had the pleasure of facin’ off against Cordelia Clark and Justin Smith, and while we won, I can’t say I’m happy about the win.
I mean, I know that Fenris and Miles have been training with Artie. And all the better for it, right? I’m not a part of that, and I don’t really belong in that scene, but to have Miles Kasey come down and save our match up…for why? I mean, I know he’s new pals with everyone, but he kinda like…forsook all of Wolfslair when he was having his rebellion crisis a few months back. Miles hasn’t been in Wolfslair for months, and all of a sudden, he wants to root for us and push us forward, help us?
Something sounds sketch, and I don’t trust him. Like. He abandoned us. Finn put him in his place, and while he became an Internet Champion without us, he still forgot about all of us. Wolfslair is a family. We’re not blood, and blood doesn’t run thicker than water either. But we have each other’s back, we support one another, we want to be around one another…and Miles erased us as soon as he could.
That hurt. I thought he was my friend. I thought that he was someone that would always be there, like everyone else is. But he wasn’t, and he has the audacity to put his nose into my business because he’s helping out someone else?
It was sad. And like, it makes me sad, because I don’t trust him.
After all was said and done, when I got back to New York City this week, I sat down with my mentor at Wolfslair. You don’t know her, and that’s okay, but Aaron Asphyxia was wonderful in her own day, and boy, did she also let me know that she was disappointed in my prowess. For a second, I wondered why. I wondered why she would be disappointed when in Sin City Wrestling, I’m four and one. Across wrestling, I’m like, twenty and seven and that’s like some positive percentage. Even with Miles comin’ in and, like, doing what he did, Artie and I came out with the win and we continue on in the tournament.
But she told me why.
It’s because I lost my oomph.
My sparkle.
The thing that makes me me.
And maybe it’s true, but I don’t think it’s permanent. Blast From the Past was really just a chance for me to sit there and get some experience under my belt in this company. I won’t like, lie at all…I never thought that I would get to the end of it, or even to the semi-finals. Like I said, it would have been by sheer luck, but now that we’re here…she told me I need to figure myself out.
As a kid, I was never one of those high achievers. I wasn’t like Finn, or Kayla, or even Johanna. I did what I did, and what I was good at made me happy. Cheerleading, gymnastics, ice skating – I wasn’t inactive, and I worked at what I did. Things came easy to me. I was always flexible, I learned to move quickly. So when I became a wrestler, things came easy for me. Until I got to Wolfslair, and until I got to some of my more prominent places, I didn’t have to try hard.
But Aaron reminded me that eventually, skating by won’t get me by, and at some point, I’m going to have to sit down and actually grit my teeth and get into it. This next match isn’t going to be Bea Barnhart. And as much of a fight angry Cordelia put up last week, we barely squished in. So now, when I look ahead and see what’s in front me…I realize that my usual method of going in and doing my best and hoping that my best is good enough isn’t going to work.
I have to do my best. That means that I have to come at this from a different angle. That I need to look at this not as just another match, but a match that has my life on the line. Everything that I hold dear to my heart needs to be thought of as I do this match. Aiden, because he believes in me to carry on where he couldn’t. Kayla, my bestie, because she’s waiting at the end of the line for me. At least, right now she is. And I believe that she will also be the champion after her match with Julianna DiMaria, because no matter what anyone thinks, Kayla has always put business first. And I have to do my best for Daxie, because he is my heart and my soul and my stars and everything I love, and I want to make everyone in my life proud to know me.
I don’t ever want to walk into Wolfslair again and have the feeling of disappointment saturatin’ the whole building. As much as I, like, love my real family, Wolfslair is just as much a family to me as anything else. We push each other, we build one another up – even if we don’t like each other. Hell, Aiden and my brother can’t stand one another, but if it meant success for the team, they would fight like hell together to win. I don’t want to come back there with egg on my face and a sad moment of regret this week that I didn’t do enough. I want to walk in there, and feel like I’ve made them all proud that I’m a part of them.
Do you know what that’s like?
Do either of you know what that’s like?
Like, is that why you bounce from company to company, Sean? And what about you, Luna? You an’ your hubby seem super angry about something that you feel exists.
Do either of you know what it’s like to have people feel proud of you?
I’m sorry guys, in this semi-final for the Blast From the Past, you’re not gonna get happy-go-lucky Kalliekins. You’re getting the one trained by some of the best. And while I’m gonna still be nice…
You’re not going to like what I have to say.
❤❤❤❤❤
It was later in the day that my mother came home. She was dressed in her Air Force navy blue uniform, complete with the skirt, and took off her hat as she entered the door. My mother, Brigadier General Lauren Reznikski, hung her uniform jacket up in the closet and set everything as neatly as possible within it so that she could retrieve it in the morning. I looked a lot like my mother, with soft hazel eyes and blonde hair. Hers, of course, was in a tightly slicked back bun that was off her collar, no matter what the new regulations said.
“Kenneth,” she said quietly. That was my mother’s tone of voice all the time – almost silent, barely above a whisper. I swear that was more frightening as a child than anything else. “There is a rental car in front of the house. Perhaps we need to contact the HOA–”
She turned the corner. We were all in the kitchen, Aiden actually at the stove, cooking up some spaghetti bolognese. Dax and I sat at the counter, him on the counter in front of me and I was playing with him as he sat there, on his own. He giggled and cooed heavily and laughed hysterically as Aiden adopted an extremely high nasal tone and kept sayin’ “Hi, how’s it goin’?”
“Hi Mom,” I said when I saw her, giving her a smile.
She barely even smiled back. She looked at where I had Dax and frowned. “You should probably play on the floor, Kallisto. The baby could fall.”
My smile faded and I looked at Dax, who giggled again. He was the baby, not even a name she could remember. Aiden looked at me from the stove and then piped up again, “Ah, Mrs. Reznikski, the tyke isn’t gonna move, hey. He’s just gigglin’ up a storm.”
“Oh, well…” my mother smiled, but it was a cold one. “I must have missed the chapter on poor choices in my parenting schema.” She turned her head and sniffed the air. “What is that smell?”
“Ah, it’s mince with a bit of–”
“It is what?”
“Mince,” I interjected. “It’s ground beef, Mom. That’s just what the Australians call it.”
Another cold smile. “Well, we’re in America, so perhaps we should call it what the Americans call it.”
Neither of us could say anything as she walked out of the room. I looked up at Aiden, who shrugged his shoulders. Her behavior embarrassed me on most occasions, and more than once I hoped that time would heal how she approached my relationship with Aiden. He was remarkably calm about it, as if he knew what it was like to be the disliked partner. Even when we were first dating, and we went to my house to meet my parents the first time, I would apologize profusely when she kept interrupting him to ask him what he said because she couldn’t understand his accent.
She could. She just wanted to be snarky about it.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here…” I started.
“Nah, love,” he shook his head, “you wanted to come see your family and get some time in with Dax, yeah? They’ll be right. Your dad did some readin’ with ‘em today, and yer mum–”
“Mom still calls him the baby.” I turned Dax to look at his father, and he cooed again. “How could you not say anything sweet about this face!” I pointed at his rosy cheeks.
“Just a reminder that her little girl is gone and now is a woman makin’ her own choices,” he pointed the spoon he’d just had in the sauce at me. “She doesn’t like it, and she’s gonna rebel. Let her be a child about it and pout.”
Aiden didn’t always offer sage advice, on account of everyone thinking he was a complete idiot. And he was content to let them think that too, because no one expected anything of him. I suspected it was honestly a buffer to his past – of which he gave me snippets of, but never let me know all of it. That was also okay. I wasn’t horribly angry about it. I just wanted him to be okay.
I nodded and looked at my baby, fully engrossed in him now. He was a year and a half almost, sitting up on his own, babbling his own words, imitating us. He knew how to say mama and dada, bottle, the unusual words that we said to him often enough.
“Besides,” Aiden added, “if she doesn’t get with the program, we can just tell her it’s fuckin’ bullshite and move on.”
Dax looked back at him, and then looked at me. “Fuhcen boolsheet!” He raised a hand with small rebellion.
Aiden stared at him and snorted. The color drained from my face though, although I wanted to laugh too. Eventually, I would tell him that wasn’t okay to say, but right now, the imitation was hilarious. I shook my head as my mother rentered the room, dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt that was tucked in. She would never be caught dead appearing anything less than perfect.
“I suppose I should check out the child,” she said, stepping forward and looking at him. She reached forward and picked him up, examining him as she held him up like Simba from the Lion King. “He seems healthy. Are you feeding him his proper nutritional cycle?”
“Yeah,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “He gets food four times a day, and he’s starting to eat solids. Doesn’t really like green beans though…”
Dax knew exactly what I was saying, because he shook his head and slammed his eyes shut. “Fuhcen boolsheet!” He yelled.
My mother glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. I shrugged, but inwardly, I wanted to die. She was disappointed. And there was nothing more disappointing than a mother who hated her child.
❤❤❤❤❤
Let’s talk about you first, Sean, shall we? A lot of people like to bring up the fact that you’re like…everywhere. I’ve been in a couple of companies at the same time, but you bounce around more than like…what’s his name…Matt Knox? Does. There’s one thing to say that you go from place to place, providing your talents and like…services…
Oh, don’t mistake me at all, okay? Like, it’s cool that you can bounce around to the Trials, and NPWA, and like, XWF, and all the places that everyone frequents. It’s like one big party and I guess I shouldn’t be, like, super surprised at everything you can do. I’m sure you make someone super proud. It’s just there there’s a saying for staying exclusive to a company. You gain more respect, and the rest of the roster doesn’t end up lookin’ at ya like an usurper to the progress everyone else has. Mark Cross over there comes in once yearly, sometimes wins the tourney and then ultimately loses and we all kinda have a giggle about it.
But I guess it’s like, here’s everyone ya know too. Your buddies you…erm…hang out with, they’ve graced these halls. You know Alexander Raven, who happens to be the husband of your partner, Luna Pasilno. And you knew Matthew Knox, who kinda comes around like the plague every so often and disappears when he doesn’t like…get accolades. I mean, you’re as guilty as the company you keep, ya know? That’s why my mom always instilled in me growin’ up so that I’d have good, ethical people around me. Especially since I’m such a rule follower…
But you’ve done pretty well. I know you’re gonna say all this hoopla about how you guys are great and me and Artie aren’t…but that’s where you’re wrong, mmkay? See, while you’re galavantin’ all over the world, Artie works here. He works hard, and from the minute he got thrown into this thing, he’s had the thought of proving everyone wrong. You can’t tell me the first thought that went through your brain wasn’t that this was gonna be a cake walk, right? Right.
I know Cordy-Wardy last week was all about saying how somehow everyone believes we were gonna make it into the finals, but I find that super hard to believe. You saw Artie and you assumed that you had it in the bag if you had to face us. He, the ROOKIE-Rookie and me, the Semi-Rookie who just had a baby last year and seems to be plucky as heck. I mean, at first I thought I was doomed, but then I got to work with him. And he is wonderful, okay? A little rough around the edges, but he fights hard and he doesn’t relent just cause people think less of him.
So Sean, I think you’re gonna find that this might be a little bit harder than your well-travelled butt was thinkin’. Artie’s got a lot of friendos in the back, and they’re rootin’ for him just as hard as my friends are rootin’ for me. Sometimes they get involved when they shouldn’t, and believe me, we’re gonna be havin’ some words about that when I see ‘em next, but I want you to be prepared. This isn’t gonna be easy. This isn’t gonna be fun. Artie is gonna fight harder than you expect, and I just want you to make sure that you take this as seriously as he’s takin’ it.
We want to be champions.
We’re going to be champions.
And now, I know I’m supposed to devote a lot of time to Luna, but I feel kinda like that’s what she wants. You know, being part of The Conspiracy. This awful thought that they’re stuck in this kinda Rocky Horror Time Warp where they can’t leave because Christian and Mark seem to have their figurative b…balls in a sling. Gosh, that was hard to say. She calls herself The Idol, but I wanna question that…like…
An idol is an image of someone or something to worship. A symbol. Like historically – my dad would get all excited about this – in Egypt, there were idols made for all of the gods, and they would wash them daily, they would leave offerings for them to eat. They were someone to love.
You make it really hard to love you, Luna.
Oh, I’m sure Mr. Raven does. I’m sure he loves you and would move the sun and the stars for you, but let’s face it. No one here loves you, and no one here can be forced to love you. Because you’re stuck here, you’re throwing what equates to a temper tantrum. Listening to you week in and week out talk about how you don’t deserve this and that, and that what you deserve is to be on top of this whole field…it’s grating. Extremely grating, and not all that deserving of veneration.
You talk about how everyone thinks you’re crazy. I don’t think you’re crazy…per se, I just don’t think you’ve had positive attention for anything….like…ever. You’re constantly fightin’ this battle that exists for primarily you and the mirror; you keep talkin’ about how no one thinks of you as a decent competitor. That you’ve had to prove yourself by throwing people into tables and being an absolute monster.
Funny story!
I’ve done that too. My first company was totally a deathmatch company, and like, I won the Brightburn Championship in a street fight in a frickin’ like…aquarium. I used a piiiiirrrranha to bite my opponents arm and I threw her into the tank and there was water everywhere, and–
Sorry, I got excited.
See, that’s the thing I love about this business. The crazier it is, the more fun it is, and like…this opportunity that lays in front of all of us is crazy. It lays out the best contenders, it brings out the best in people. I want to win this just as much as you do, and as much as you’re like, salivating to see your hunny at the end, you have to also face the fact that if you pass me, you might have to face him.
And that’s never a good thing, especially for your cohorts in crime.
You were confident and you were certain against Roux…more confident and certain than you were when you faced Courtney last year. Even when you had a one up on Zoey Lukas, and when you’ve faced Kat Jones over and over again like she actually like…matters…at this point. So I gotta assume that you’re gonna come up confident against me and you should be! Just like I am against you.
This isn’t a one-sided battle between us, Lulu. I’m good at what I do and I can cause much more damage than you think. Because like...I’m not just a cute little blonde with a happy-go-lucky personality and a silly husband. I’m not just a rookie who doesn’t deserve to be here. I’m a fighter, I’m a member of Wolfslair, and I am one-hundred-percent more interested in kicking your butt so that I can get higher and higher. You need this opportunity to fix your blunders in this company. Me? I need this so I can prove to you, and to every other woman in this tournament that I deserve to be here. That I want to be here, and that I can do all the same things that everyone else can.
Want me to slam you into a burning table? Sure.
Want me to hurl you into a glass case? I mean, that doesn’t feel so good, but bring me one and we can do it.
I want this. I want the opportunity. I want to help Artie succeed in his endeavors, and I want to make sure that my name goes down in infamy as a leader in this company. I look at my friends and I see what they can do, and I know that with their strength behind me, I can do anything that I put my mind to.
And that means defeating you, Luna. Defeating you and Sean Parker, who’s here for a cup of coffee and probably gone tomorrow when the title opportunity fades into like…dust. Fwoosh, there it goes.
You’re gonna underestimate me. Just like everyone else does, but unlike everyone else, I think you’re gonna understand where I come from. They don’t want people like us at the top, Luna. They don’t want people with drive, and they want people they can control. But the less control that there is, that means the more eventful the end result.
Assuming Kayla wins the championship again? What better to be seen than Kayla Richards facing her bestie and hurling all the insults she can at her while simultaneously knowing that said bestie is gonna fire back at her? The War of Friends, the War of Fam, the War of Bestie. BESTIE TROUBLE! I would pay for it.
Because Kay and I would make it something special. You? I mean, I know you’ve gotten better and more resilient in this company, but let’s face it Lu…when it comes to the things that matter…you choke harder than like…the chick in 50 Shades of Gray. You’ve had so many opportunities, and what have they given you except a bad attitude and a bitter mouth?
I may have lost to Harper, but at least I kept that with grace in my hand. I could never be as bitter or self-centered as you, my new friend. Because I want to face the best, and if I lose? Then I’ve learned something.
But don’t mistake me, kay? Luna, Sean…I don’t care that you guys think you’ve got the best ticket in the house. Artie and I are gonna come up in your zone and we’re gonna kick butt. You can bet on that. And when your backs are on the mat, I’ma come over and raise your hand. Because you’re good at what you do. But you’re not me.
Like, good luck, new friend! I wish you the very best, and I hope we have a great match.
I’ll see you on the other side, okay?
Peace!