Money, it's a crime
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie
Money, so they say
Is the root of all evil today
But if you ask for a rise it's no surprise that they're giving none away
Alice and John brought two sons, Keith, and Peter into the world.
Both children eventually did the same, Keith bearing a son, and Peter a daughter.
Keith stayed close to his parents, and was there at their every beck and call, while Peter moved elsewhere.
Alice and John made their Last Will and Testament. Their wishes were for the brothers to split everything 50/50. If anything happened to one of them, their share would pass to their child.
In the biggest surprise of all, Keith was the first to lose his life, aged just 58, to a sudden heart attack. Alice came next, followed by John. Following the settlement of the Cross family estate, Keith’s son was due to receive 50%.
John…aged 91 at the time, had been pressured into changing his Will, and Mark didn’t receive a penny. I didn’t need it of course, but it’s the principle of me…the memory of my Dad…and the wishes of my Grandparents being fucked over by some money-grabber I’m supposed to consider ‘family’ to me.
Let me tell you one thing…I would give up EVERYTHING in a heartbeat. Dream house, dream car, watch collection, every penny I’ve made and every single material object I own for the chance of one more hour with my Dad. You can take it all if I could have one last pint of beer with him…catch one more soccer game…one last adventure as ‘The Cross Brothers’ as to be honest a lot of the time, I thought of him more like an older brother or a best mate anyway.
I don’t view death in terms of how much I’m going to profit from it…
…because as much as I’d admit I am beyond materialistic in so many ways, there’s no doubt in my mind that I want the person. The memories. The love that wasn’t always spoken, but was always so very much there.
My Dad said to his parents that he didn’t want their money, told them to spend it all, enjoy it…sell their property and spend every penny of their equity too, he didn’t want a single penny out of them. In his eyes it was theirs, they’d earned it, and if he were to take anything out of his relationship from them, the very last thing on his list of their priorities was that…and from what my Mum told me years later, if he had been given anything? He’d have passed it on to me anyway.
My Dad and I…as it turned out…were very much aligned in our thought process in the end. I was more impulsive, obviously, and I still am…but I had his head screwed on my shoulders.
I completely and totally disagree with the statement that money can’t buy you happiness. That phrase needs to die in my opinion.
“Money can’t ALWAYS buy you happiness.”
That’s better. As we established last week, I am not a neurotypical human being. There are aspects of my psyche that affect my quality of life in certain areas or more specifically…the quality of the relationships I could form.
Forming a healthy relationship with money was something I could always control. It was a tangible thing, I could hold it, and something my parents drilled into me early was how money worked. How to save for things I wanted, and then decide if it was worth those X number of weeks of allowance I’d stashed to buy it in the first place. That was important to me early on in my sporting career too. I came into the NFL on a multi-million dollar a year contract, effectively. I was unproven, but I played a skill position, which almost by default unlocked the big bucks.
Now what they don’t tell you about these contracts is that while they may have a $X figure attached to them, that is subject to achieving a number of set goals, that money was far from guaranteed, tied up in various performance clauses before they get unlocked. Now I was lucky in that regard, I played every game in my four seasons in the league, I hit most everything I was expected to…but I’d see guys, most of them in fact, who saw that final dollar value and they’d go and spend and spend and spend like THAT was what they were going to get at the end of the year.
One bad injury was all it took - Bye bye performance bonuses, sometimes bye bye career.
I told myself right away that I was not going to spend a single cent I did not have. That meant no spending hoping I’d hit my performance numbers and get the money later, nothing on a lease, nothing financed. If the money was not in my bank account, I did not buy the thing…and oh TRUST ME the number of things I missed out on acquiring…I had a miss-list up the Ying-Yang, one or two of the watches during that time? So rare that they haven’t come up again…but it’s the only way it could be. Mom and Dad taught me well.
I had to make sure that I protected myself. I wanted to make sure that I could continue on with a lifestyle I'd started to get used to. Truth is if I don't work another day of my life, I can still carry on and do the things that I want to….travel where I want to, see the world, continue to experience new and exciting things. I may not fly First Class everywhere, but I don’t know. If it’s a few hours I’ll fly coach. The place where I lay my head may cost me less than 200 bucks a night but hey, same story. I want to be out drinking in the place I’m at, all I use that room for is to sleep in, why waste it? Materialistic or not, the boring side of things is that I have based my financial priorities on sound investments and smart spending, generally…with the odd extravagant purchase of a boat here and there, but we have to learn the hard way don't we.
Money doesn’t buy my happiness. It just gets those annoying adult problems out of the way.
Money has brought me memories, earned me experiences that'll never forget. It's bought me quality time with people that have had a positive impact in my life. It's helped me, travel to see, to explore. There are ups and downs too, it got divided in half when ‘to have and to hold ended before death did us part’ and like the rising tide it comes and it goes and then it comes again. It isn't the be all and end all but from clearing debts to a little retail therapy, it can make a lot of things better.
I've made my money, but money doesn't make me. It never has, it never will. I may be selfish, really selfish in fact, when I can't see past my own face, but one thing that I hope I will never be is greedy. I hope I can help people. I will take those opportunities as much as I can.
Stepping out the spotlight doesn't scare me. I'm not stuck in this trap, nor do I need to keep making more and more money every time. I don't need to stretch a lot longer than my body can last. I can get out and I can enjoy life or look for new opportunities...and you know what if opportunities aren't there I can stay in Florida, work on my golf swing, and get over-weight and be very happy with what I already have.
There's a running joke with my Dad, about whether he was adopted, or whether he was the milkman's son, since he seemed to stand so far apart from the rest of the Cross family. Well if that's the case I would like to think I'm that milkman's grandson,and if he's anything like my Dad was, then I'm gutted I never got the chance to meet him.
Don't put money over memories or family or friends. Don't turn into my Uncle.
The Sound of SilenceA solid black screen. No music, no graphics, just darkness, and a voice of pure Britishness.
Well…this week was downright fucking disappointing. Since half of you greeted us with the sound of silence this week? I’m not going to bother switching the camera on. Let’s make it a nice, dull, boring low budget affair. To think of the bullshit I get for ‘not selling hard enough’ well this effort has been pretty pathetic.
Sometimes…in matches like this…you just want your opponents to give you something, y’know? Like make my job just a little bit easier…save me having to dig further back through the archives to try and guess where your mind might be at. Stunning three men to sheer silence, already? I have to say that maybe…just maybe…it’s a little too early for that. Especially when one in particular is so…out-of-character.
Now Ben…a little like me, not often one to grab a microphone in anger, rarely seen marching down to the ring with it to set the world to rights, but we normally would have had a public address from him now, or at the very least one of his comedy skits, which seem to be pretty commonplace for these two-week run-ins to the Supershow. I don’t really know if this is hyper-focus or lack of focus at this point and while the competition is fierce, I have to lean towards option two.
After all, if there were anything I might criticise the Cockney King for the most? It’s a certain lack of focus at times.
I feel like Ben and Evie, much the same…spending a little too much time out in Maine, chowing down on those lobster rolls, never losing that touch in the ring, of course even if it gets a little rusty…only to find that when they decide to get back out there, the ring gear doesn’t quite fit like it used to, and it takes a certain amount of catching up just to get back to where they were before they left.
Elite prize fighters usually cut down to fighting weight in training camps for maybe two, three matches per year and you know what, done right? That can work out really well for those guys but hey…here’s the thing. This is wrestling, not boxing, and there’s very few of us saving ourselves for those few elite bouts per year as for a lot of us? We can expect two or three matches per week. In this very ring, at Supershows, I’ve had SCU and SCW duties to juggle, it literally meant two matches per night. You can imagine how big the party was after picking up two victories on one of the biggest nights on the calendar, that’s for sure.
My point here is this - Boxers and MMA fighters, generally? They’ll work a similar schedule. The intense work happens in fight camp, outside of that it’s general technical and conditioning work. Two guys locking horns, coming off a (relatively) similar programme. In wrestling there is a much bigger disparity. Here guys split their time elsewhere, other careers…Agostino has his motorbikes to ride, for example, part-time schedules, you name it, or Ben Jordan…who comes around when enough motivation happens to be there…and this poses an interesting question…just what difference does that make?
Now I’m a firm believer that ability and experience count for a hell of a lot in this game. Level whatever criticism you want my way but people don’t fluke their way into titles very often and Ben is no different. He’s proven that when he steps between those ropes he is absolutely the real deal, take nothing away from him on that BUT…what if that isn’t the deciding factor. What if you throw a few guys in a ring with World title pedigree…all have the ability, all have the experience…what sets them apart? Is it just luck of the draw, a game of rock, paper, scissors?
…or is it the little things, the intangibles, the things that might sway a contest by even a couple of measly percentage points. The way I figure, I have two of them on my side. First off, in preparation. I may not have been here, but I’ve not rested on my laurels for one single second. You know the benefits of staying in Miami? I’m in my gym, in my environment, with my equipment. I can work my full programme, not cobbling something together from whatever the local Planet Fitness has to offer…it means recovering the way I know works best, hot tub and swimming pool literally right outside my property. It means never skipping a day, because anything I might want to fill my time with is right on my doorstep…and it means I know a whole bunch of guys who can get me a match, within driving distance, at the drop of a hat.
I have preparation on my side for one. I don’t drop in and drop out of my schedule when I see fit, I just live in it, permanently. My longest lay-off was 12 weeks…knee injury…after the last time Ben and I faced off it turns out and those first few matches, coming back? They were tough-going. It’s like that extra little push that was there in the tank before, when I needed it most? It was that much harder to dredge up. It took a long while for that to come back. It just shows, all it takes is a couple of weeks of foot off the gas and suddenly it takes MONTHS to get back to where you were. Ring rust shakes off way quicker, a couple of matches, but the ability to dig deep? That takes a whole lot of consistent work.
I couldn’t help but notice Ben getting a little star-struck over the arrival of “Chronic” Chris Page a couple of weeks back. So sweet, so wholesome…right down to that moment where your eyes locked on the outside of the ring. Shame you weren’t sitting down to a candlelit fucking dinner out there Ben, there was still a wrestling match to win.
I have to admit…I’ve been in your situation before…with Taylor Swift…because I used to have a poster of her ON MY CEILING so I could wake up to her every morning. At least…until my wife at the time stepped in and I had to take it down. That was the one time I’ve fumbled the ball talking to someone famous, I babbled my way through the most awkward fangirl little speech, and I vowed never to try and speak to her again.
I face Chris…in just under a month’s time at the Backyard-O-Rama. “Both legends in this great sport, who have done pretty much anything and everything there is to do, look to show the young-ins how it’s done” that’s how it’s been billed. Chris says I’m one of the few people that he doesn’t take lightly…and without seeing the rest of the card I’ve already called it the match of the night.
Mutual respect is very much allowed. Fangirling is not, and unfortunately both of our former World champions do that a little too much.
You know what grinds my gears a little more than it should, in the run-in to a match? A little too much respect. I get it, of course. Austin shares a similar view that I, and a number of others have already voiced regarding the World title defence but come on…
Come Into the Void, Austin? You’re gonna have to hit me.
I shouldn’t complain about anyone putting me up on a little pedestal, letting their own feelings of self-doubt rattle around in their heads and all that, but where’s the challenge in beating someone, when they’re already seeing me beating them in their own heads. Not only is that a wrong strategy, but it’s interesting to note you still have me all wrong still.
Wishy washy approach to wrestling?
That's not quite right. There's a real difference between a wishy washy approach to wrestling, and one to the business of wrestling. I think this is the point that you're trying to make about me. Look I'll admit, The amount of merchandise that the Sin City shop sells isn't a huge concern of mine, and you know what? If the names in the match are big enough, and the stakes are high? I’m very much a believer that the match sells itself. It’s my job in that instance to be as prepared as possible, and ready to make it every bit the barn-stormer it’s meant to be. I don't need to force my face onto a screen just to make that happen. That’s a business thing. It’s not a wrestling thing, and while I agree, both have to intertwine…when it comes to the elite level of competition I’m due to face? I’d rather focus my own energy on that.
Now you can say what you want about my approach to wrestling but that will be at your peril. The times I've walked into a ring completely unprepared In the last decade, you could probably count on two hands. Considering the amount of last minute bookings I take, that’s a pretty mean feat…I study, I research, I gameplan. You can say what you want about where I spend my time too, but one thing is for certain…my attitude towards the art of wrestling, the competition that happens in the centre of the ring has never changed…and that is exactly how I ended up World champion in the first place…all after dragging a rookie through a whole tournament to earn my spot. Proving you’re the best man in the company at the time? That takes a whole lot of work…and that work doesn’t involve picking up microphones and sending promotional Tweets. Trust me.
You wanna tell me that it was luck? Right place, right time? You’re welcome to try but that's your mistake to make. Nothing about what I do is fluke. Guys who sell out first and train later, maybe it’s fluke for them, but it would take a very brave man or woman to say that anything that happens for me is by chance. I earn everything I get. I work for everything I want. If something is handed to me on a silver platter well you know what I would rather just pass on it. I feel like I should be offended, but then I remember you're my opponent. I guess maybe I should just let you fall on your own sword after all.
Respect me, don't respect me whatever you know who the two danger men are in this match. After all you’ve been there and done it, right? You stood there at the top of the tree like both Ben and I. You know what it takes to be a champion and, If you were taking that into account, you might not be saying it was just a case of right place, right time…but you see Austin…I’ve seen this game before. It’s like a Wolfslair tactic honestly, as you all have a little touch of this. You’re so cocksure of yourself, and of your chance of success…as long as it’s an opponent you think you can beat…and then you get someone you can’t. A Ben Jordan, or me…and you tried pulling this against me last time…it’s like suddenly you go all humble, you grow a modicum of respect for your opponent as if laying the foundations, as if losing to them is going to be okay after all.
That’s fine - I’ll let you have your narrative, I’ll add a footnote to it for you now. You will not become King for a Day, I assure you of that, because you’re sharing the ring with me. You can talk about your title reigns all you want but not all World champions are created equal, and the length of a run only tells a part of the story. You may think you’re part of the club for what you once did, but this is a game where you still have to get results to stay relevant, and on recent form? I don’t think you can go toe-to-toe with me, in my current form…without Tempest in your corner.
You seem ready to play your part again - I will absolutely play mine in making sure you don’t ascend.
Ken…I have to tell you something…and this may shatter your whole world…You are NOT facing Amber Ryan, okay? Whatever the fuck you do, please don’t watch a bunch of tape on Amber Ryan and get surprised by ‘hey who’s this Mark Cross guy and why has he kneed me really hard in the face a whole bunch of times, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t part of the script? I can tell you someone who isn’t part of the script and that’s AMBER FUCKING RYAN. Christ on a bike.
You have a bit of an obsession, buddy…and I thought it was me that was supposed to have the reputation for screwing with other people’s wives. Ha - Guess everyone is showing us their real truth this week.
I get it, she’s very impressive, but here’s one for you…who does someone like that concern themselves with? You know that’s something that you need to look at, and think about. Who does the likes of Amber Ryan fear? The answer to that is probably no-one, so onto the next question. What kind of person would she rather sidestep?
Now I've come across many legends of this game. I've stood on the opposite side of the ring to them and you know what the pretty common theme running through all those encounters is? They know I'm not someone to take lightly.
I spoke about it with Ben before and it's a balancing act. There is a certain level of respect that you should have for all of your opponents. From that baseline, some of them earn it more than others. Yeah, I have plenty of people that would like to wipe the smirk off my face but how many of them would actually want to take that match really? Talk is cheap when you don’t actually have to put up and your situation is exactly the same. You can chunter away all you want about Amber Ryan because it turns out, you’re safe. No intergender matches, so she’s not going to be able to button that lip of yours.
Me on the other hand? Well you seem to be a little more quiet on me and honestly I can’t blame you. Try not to piss me off, in case I paint a target on your back and come after you first and foremost. You have no choice but to get in there with me, but I guess you hope you can slip out under the radar and avoid the worst of my wrath.
I might host a straw pole at some point, go around and ask wrestlers would you rather face, this person or this person. You can ask Ben, you can ask Austin You could ask Fenris, Mac, Amber, hell you can even ask Chris Page if you want. As much as people may say they wanna get a piece of me, I think if you laid it out on the table, very few are going to choose me over <Enter any name here>
Nobody actually wants to get put opposite me and I understand. Who would want to take on a guy that has unflappable confidence? A guy that proves time and time again that he is World title material. Who would wanna take on a guy that week in week out puts in the exact same elite level of performance, who never skips a training day, who never has a ‘bad day at the office’ , who is never under-prepared, who never gets caught off guard. He will take on anything and anyone, even if it’s conquering his own damn fear of heights in a ladder match, challenge accepted. Who can turn the tide of a match in one or two manoeuvres.
All this talk of moving forward…and you’re trying to tie it into Mr. October? Well first of all it’s May…but are you trying to tell us you're the wrestling version of Reggie Jackson? The truth is …this isn't baseball and when you come to a wrestling show, you don't get 3 or 4 at-bats. You get 1 match, 1 chance, 1 opportunity to pick up that win. You can’t live and die by the high-risk, high-reward, sit dead red for that fastball and hit the moonshot kinda play. I’m not going to let you hit that home run, I’ve been in this game too long to walk into something so amateur.
I am not a martyr, or a truth hammer, or whatever religious symbol you want to try and assign to me. I am just a wrestler, who is damn good at wrestling matches, and if the ring is our Church? Well you Ken? You’re my disciple, and you will bow to me.
Next - Alexander…I see you’ve given us something that lasts longer than a minute, so I’m going to add that to my Watch Later list and get to that another time, as finally you give us something to pick through.
I've gotta admit it takes a certain level of commitment to keep pushing this ‘I am the King thing’ when all you're racking up is losses. I guess loss is something that the kings of old used to. Loss of land, loss of territory, loss of life. Continuing to push their men into unwinnable battles and fruitless exercises just for the sake of wealth, of power, of control. In a way it's admirable, but I think I touched on it last week…we are going through the same old pattern again. Expecting a different result is just insanity. While your resolve may be un-waning, the results haven't been coming and guess what, the opponents keep getting tougher, and growing in numbers. This time around there are more than a few of us that outmatch you in terms of experience, in terms of results, here in Sin City results here in Sin City. in terms of what we've done in the various title pictures we’re involved in, and the longer this goes on the more we begin to doubt your statement of being the One True King.
I figure that’s the only reason you're in this match in the first place, because you're walking around the place trying to make us call you a King already. You get offered the opportunity to try and prove your worth…for this moniker that you're trying to give yourself. Now, I guess the question is when you don't win the King For A Day match, are you still gonna continue , or will you finally decide to change things up and give us something different.
The great thing about wrestling, Maybe not so much in my case but definitely in yours, is that in this sport you can reinvent yourself as much as you want. You can throw on a mask and you can change your name or you can just pretend that you are something completely different, and while people are gonna call you out on what you were before, at least if in your own mind, if you believe that you're something else, rather than this failed King that can't produce the King-like results he needs to make that stick…well at least maybe you’ll feel a little better about yourself, right?
Now I used to play tennis as a kid and I got involved a little bit in the coaching side of things, and something that we used to do with the kids is to get them involved in some kind of friendly competition early on. To make it so they couldn't get disheartened, we’d maybe stack the deck a little bit so that everyone gets a chance to taste victory…or maybe a game where there is no real winner, and everyone gets a trophy. Alexander, at this point you remind me of one of those kids, Like he's trying really hard. Maybe we should give him something just to keep him interested? Only…you’re not one of my students and I don’t care about this slippery slope you’re on because let me tell you that moment is definitely coming for you and it's coming soon, where this belief you still have in yourself begins to crumble under the weight of losses upon losses.
There is no way in hell you can continue to keep losing wrestling matches and continue trying to act like you belong here. There's no way you can try and keep that facade going for much longer. The fact is I see right through you, and you can call yourself a king, a saviour, a messiah, whatever the fuck you want. What I see in front of me is a man struggling, a man lacking direction, a man that couldn't buy himself a win with all the money in the world. I really wanna call you out for the patheticness of the situation but it feels like kicking a wounded puppy. Alexander this isn't your stage. This isn't your throne to capture. There's no crown for you. Maybe it's time you do yourself a favour and accept that whatever happens at Into the Void you coming away with a victory is absolutely not going to be one of them. Maybe this is the chance for that cold hard look at yourself, when maybe you think about changing direction.
For me my approach is very much if it aint broke don't fix it, and since I have a method that’s taken me to pretty much every accolade I could ever have wanted to achieve over this last 10 years or more, I'm pretty confident I've got my technique down. Let me show you how it should be done, as I climb the ladder to make myself the King. Let me show you what it's like to back that title up with a few results in the ring. You just sit back and watch and let me show you how you should have done things. Watch me as I show you are actually getting results actually does for your monarchy status.
I'm sure you wanna get one over on me to catapult you forward the few of the steps your losses have knocked you back. You won't be the first and you won't be the last. After all, a scalp against The Dragon counts for a hell of a lot a lot around these parts. I've got to admit that's why I get a target painted on my back too, because there are plenty of people that would love to take down a former World champion and a former two-time Blast from the Past winner. What some seem to forget though is that I am a real rags to riches story. Working myself right up from the development territory to the very top of the tree here in SCW. I did what you're gonna have to do. Start from the bottom and build up. The difference is, I never called myself anything other than The Dragon. Any titles that were given to me after that? Well I earned those. I will be King, but I’m not going to use that until I’ve earned it.
There is nothing more humbling in this business than failing to achieve. You can call yourself whatever you want but at the end of the day you have failed to achieve. You haven't been good enough before, against weaker opposition, and chances are you are not going to be good enough against me. You haven't shown like you've made any attempts to change. I earn every opportunity I earn every title that I hold. I let others tell me what I am or how they see me. I let my work in the ring do the talking.
Your work in the ring has been nothing more than a whisper. I hope after this week you will learn your lesson, and you'll start to prove what you are…rather than what you tell us what we should perceive you as.
I guess we come to Agostino last, and I don't really have any words for him. Just as he very rarely has words for us, nothing of meaning, or of value. His bit part contribution, much like his effort in the match, will be fairly inconsequential. Probably a few flashes of excitement at the beginning…before someone gets hold of him and slows him down permanently. Part of it hosts it's me, part of me doesn't care.
I guess with that it's time to sign off. Very few words left to say other than to get out there at Into The Void and climb the ladder. Climbing ladders in Sin City is something that I have done plenty of times…something that I have made a career out of since I came here. All Sunday is? Just one more ladder. Now I guess I’d normally step out of shot in dramatic fashion here, but there’s no visual so…umm…The sound of a scraping chair as it moves away from the desk…followed by it bouncing against the floor, pushed over for extra dramatic effect, and footsteps fading as they pad away from the microphone.
Take what you want
Take what you can
Take what you please
Don't give a damn
Ask for forgiveness
Never permission
Narrative = Control = Power.I once had a friend who was an expert at remembering all my failures in detail. Every time he felt like taking me down a notch, he would discuss them at length with anyone who was within earshot, whether they wanted to listen or not. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought they were recording every action I took in a little journal, ready to pick apart at will.
The problem was that he always took such pleasure in it.
With friends like that, you don’t need enemies.
After all…the past is fixed and objective. At least, that’s how most of us view the past. We think it never changes and can’t be controlled. But that’s untrue.
Because the past is fluid. Dylan can’t remember her past, so it doesn’t influence her.
It’s important to understand that. The past is really just a collection of stories. It’s not fixed and objective at all.
If you don’t believe me, think of something that happened in your childhood. Take five family members or friends, people that were there with you, and ask them to recount the events to you. After that, you’ll end up with five different stories of that event.
Now remember…it’s not that four of them are lying and only one is telling the truth. It’s more that all witnesses have their own points of view on the event, they’ve imposed their own thoughts and feelings on it.
There is no objective past. There is only interpretation.
I know you’re going to say what about facts, what about the things we learned in school? Well history is the politically correct aggregate of the most dominant stories. That’s all it is. Propaganda, the lot of it.
The past is fluid.
I use that secret all the time now. Whenever someone is talking about my past failures, I always manage to re-frame the events.
Take for instance losing my first attempt at my World title.
I didn’t belong here in the first place, they told me…Sin City Underground guys aren’t fit to lace up any of our boots here, it was a no-contest, someone else should have gotten the shot…regardless of me winning out in a tournament to earn it.
I managed to re-frame the situation.
Instead of viewing it as a failure, I took it as a challenge to get better.
I came back around, I won another Blast from The Past, I did something nobody else ever had, two consecutive victories.
But I paid a price for that freedom: Nobody will ever truly underestimate me again.
It’s a price I love to pay, I thrive on the challenge.
Learning to control the narrative is a life skill. The future is fluid too, and it can be tamed just like the past. Every future problem can be framed in a way that empowers you. There’s always one perfect frame. Your job is to find that one frame.
Whoever controls the narrative, controls the world. Literally. There’s your power. You better become a story-teller. It’s a matter of life and death.
Trust me.
My former friend always controlled my story.
If you don’t control your story, someone else will.
Becoming a story-teller is the ultimate superpower.
Only the present is real.
Oh…that 'friend' we spoke of? I still hear that voice sometimes. It’s the version of me that I was born with. The one I had to learn to manage.
The one that still takes control every now and then.
I knew he’d accept my invitation. I knew he’d come, and I figure he’d come armed too. I was taking a quote-unquote “risk” but it never once felt that way. There was no doubt of the outcome in my mind.
He was taller than me, but not by much. He was broader than me, but not by much. He was stronger than me, but that didn’t matter. Strength is one thing, determination is another, and if the balance swings too far in one direction, there is only going to be one result in the end.
He was the military man in her nightmares. She couldn’t see his face in them, and with every passing day we shared the same bed, I held her tight in my arms until the field of sunflowers stopped coming, the faceless man stopped coming, that chapter of her life stopped haunting her.
That was…until he came to her. Told her everything, who she was, her real name, what he was, to her. Her husband. He was here to ruin everything.
He didn’t control the narrative.
My hands locked around his throat in a vice grip, my knee buried deep in my chest. His eyes were cold, dark…he had all the look of someone who could kill a man for sport, probably had, most likely more than he could count. He’d have killed me in a heartbeat, given the chance, but I was ruthless, relentless.
He didn’t stand a chance.
The truth was we could have sat in this stalemate for the next four or five minutes, until the very last breath left this man, and his brain became too starved of oxygen to ever fire another synapse but where was the fun in that? A long…slow death…time where I hoped that maybe, just maybe, my conscience might kick in. The Mark of his late thirties, a better, well-rounded human being capable of love and empathy and compassion and generosity and selflessness.
That Mark just sat back and watched. Dylan didn’t need a life that had her stabbed and left for dead, an existence where dodging bullets became commonplace. She didn’t need a serial killer for a husband, whether he did it in the name of the great US of A or not. She didn’t deserve the life “Staff Sergeant David Ashworth” could give her. She deserved much better. She deserved everything I promised her and more. She deserved the whole damn world.
The new version of Mark eventually pushed himself up from his proverbial chair, walked over, surveyed the scene, knelt down…and applied his hands on top of mine.
It just made me press harder, squeeze tighter, applying that pressure until…
*SNAP*
I don’t know exactly what parts of his neck we’d broken, but it lulled back to the side, and he was gone. It was all over. Nobody would ever lay a finger on her again, nobody but me.
"I have the power to change my story. Nothing, and nobody, gets in my way. "
