The thud of the mat always invigorated him. Sitting on the top of the rusted out bleachers, the shocks of the crowd, the anger when something went unexpected, he felt alive. He cringed when her body was slammed against the mat. Winced when she was tossed into the metal turnbuckle. Grit his teeth when she was twisted in a way her body shouldn’t go. But this was what she’d decided, and he wasn’t about to tell her that he even came to these events.
But he couldn’t deny that maybe, eventually, this might be something that he might do. Wrestling. Professionally, as an entertainer rather than an olympic sport. He’d never be able to do the latter. His lanky body would be the first slammed on the mat at any given point and time. But this? Maybe. One day. When he got off his ass and figured out his life. Getting kicked out at eighteen was no good, but somehow, someway…he’d figure it out.
How had his life changed so much? He and she ran the streets of London over and over for so many years, and now? Now they were little more than acquaintances in a huge world. He didn’t know who she was, and she didn’t know him. It was strange when you’d spent so much time with a person and then they acted like you never existed. But that was fine. He was fine alone.
Or at least he needed to tell himself that.
Nevertheless, he knew it wasn’t the same for the kid sitting on the opposite side of the beachers from him. He could see the tears in his eyes, the annoyance in his features. The selfishness of the person this kid relied on…it bothered him. He wasn’t the type to care about a lot of it. But this time, he did. Maybe it was because the ten-year-old had the rough side of life – parents dead, the one person he’d gotten used to helping him in life gone. And now he had to live on his own with people who had too many people to care for.
He rose to his feet, his boots clanking against the bleachers. Narrowly bypassing getting smacked in the face by a rowdy show goer, he made his way to sit next to the kid who was trying so hard to make it look like he wasn’t phased. Wasn’t bothered by this. He wondered how much trouble the kid would get in for even escaping the orphanage to get here, and he wondered if the kid didn’t care about the consequences.
“Hey kid,” he greeted him, bending over his legs and balancing himself up on his elbows. He didn’t look at him.
“Hey.” He sniffled in, crossing his arms and pulling in himself. He didn’t look up either.
“...you doin’ okay?”
The kid didn’t respond. At least, not immediately. “No.” He said. If there was anything positive about the kid, it was that he was always honest. He rubbed his grimy nose, brushing his brown hair out of his face.
He watched as their former friend was slammed against the mat one more time by a gigantic male. The crowd cheered in response. “Anythin’ I can do?”
The kid hesitated. “...no.” He answered finally.
“You sure?”
“Why would you? She was the reason you knew me,” he frowned. “She’s leavin’ me and so are you.”
He paused. The kid had had so many people fail him. He wasn’t about to be the same failure for him. Not now. He couldn’t imagine it being a problem. “Kid,” he sat up a little bit and grabbed the phone out of his pocket. He’d just get a new number and be able to keep in contact with the kid. He knew he’d fight to keep the device. It’d be the thing that he’d use until the end of time. “Keep this.” He said, handing it to him. “You may not be able to call, but you can text me. I’ll keep in touch. And you’ll have my number. I’ll text you when I have my next phone, how about that?”
The kid was silent as he turned the phone over in his hands; he looked up at the adult, hazel eyes wide. “You…you sure?”
“Yeah, Dimitri. Doesn’t matter how we met now. We’re like family now, and I don’t turn my back on family.” He grinned. “I’ll keep an eye on you. And when I’m back, it’ll be like nothin’ finished, okay? I have to go back to America, but I’m always right,” he leaned down and poked him in the heart, “here dude. I always care, okay?”
Dimitri looked at the phone. “Okie…tha…thanks Callien.”
“Finn. It’s Finn now.”
“Okay Finn.”
Finn was always the one that watched out for everyone. No matter how many snide comments were yelled into the ether about how someone else was always taking care of them, he was always watching and making sure everyone was safe. Eyes were everywhere, whether people knew it or not. And he watched out for the kid all of those years. Now? Now Dickie Watson was a known name throughout the wrestling industry, far more than his own. He liked that for him – perhaps it was what he deserved after such a terrible life.
They sat on the converted balcony that Finn had remodeled on his New York City floor. They both had a bottle of Guinness and were watching the traffic below, looking out upon Central Park. Dickie had his feet propped up, talking to Finn about his woes. He let him ramble. Dickie was the type that needed to get everything out into the open, and that included whatever was going on in his mind. Today, it seemed the conversation was leaning towards his love life. Like Finn, he’d been through probably the worst divorce ever possible in his own mind, and he was just starting to feel like a human again. One with feelings. And emotions.
All about a person that was probably forbidden to him, but that…well, it didn’t stop anything.
“Think I’m in love, mate.” Dickie stated, tipping the Guinness back and savoring the taste of it once more. “I dunno. There’s just…somethin’ about her.”
“Well, I would make sure I talk to important figures in her life…that are also important figures in your own life before you tally down at that road. You never know. He might return the Disney World incident tenfold.”
“Shit, I don’t think so.” Dickie shook his head. “I don’t think he’s particularly protective over her. They’re like eight years apart, like you an’ me. And besides, I don’t think she cares too much. I mean, she was there for me even when he wasn’t.”
“Tread carefully, kid. Or you’re gonna lose her and your friend.” Finn shook his head.
They were like brothers, but he couldn’t help but think about the paperwork that Kei had found. The paternity test. There was certainly a blood relation, but Finn couldn’t surmise how. Cousins, maybe? He’d never met his father’s family, and his mother was an only child. They could very well be cousins, but that would require more work and sleuthing than he really wanted to do right now. Besides, it wasn’t important. Blood had never been important to Finn. He wasn’t exactly open about it, but anyone he’d let in his life was his family. Anyone.
Even Kayla.
“Let’s talk about somethin’ else…” Dickie sat up, and planted his feet on the ground, setting the empty bottle on the deck. “How’s the wrestling thing comin’? I know you have a championship in Sin City…the Roulette, right?”
“Yeah, and I have to defend it at the fuckin’ Summer XXXTreme X. Get this…against Miles, so far.”
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Dickie chuckled, looking at him. “I don’t think Miles has faced you when you have a championship. You’re as bad as me when it comes to retention. You just don’t quit.”
“Always been relentless…but that’s it. No intentions of giving up, but…you know, I don’t want to get stagnated. Alex slammed me so long ago with that stupid fucking Bloodbath or whatever the fuck championship, and I turned around and surpassed him then. I’m gunning for that World Championship, but it might take more time than I would like, really.”
“I know.” Dickie nodded. “At least you have somethin’ tho…”
There it was. The familiar sound of his bitching. Dickie’s main company, his home company, had closed a long while ago. FIGHT! NYC was prevalent within the industry and everyone knew Dickie from it now. He was the fucking C H A M P I O N there, and he had every right to feel lost. But Finn had already heard this song and dance. Dickie would mope about, join a company, but it wasn’t until he truly felt like they were giving him a fair shot that he would rise to the occasion and do his job. Dickie was World Champion material, but now he held two defunct ones as their companies had died from the inside out. Finn had reassured him over and over that he’d make it up there again, but Dickie didn’t want to wait. He wanted it now. Typical fucking Millennial.
“Have you found any companies that caught your eye?”
“Signed with EWC, but I dunno man…fuckin’ Winterborn…”
“Kasey?”
“Nah, Phoenix.”
“What a dickbag,” Finn commented, shaking his head. He paused as Dickie snorted, but the snort was a little feeling-filled. “You’re going to have to figure it out soon, kid. I know what you’re like, and you’re going to mope about like a bitch – not really something you need to do. There can be only so much sitting before a television set–”
“I’m not sitting at a television set…”
“I can see the fucking potato chip residue on your shirt.”
Dickie stared at him, his eyes widening, before he looked down at his Parkway Drive shirt and started brushing it off. Finn rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly, just as the other occupant of the house poked her head out. Kayla Richards. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail and looked like she’d just come in from a run outside. She narrowed her eyes at Finn for a moment – she still hadn’t spoken to him since their previous blowup at the gym, and at this point, Finn wasn’t about to talk to her either. They were like an old married couple, except they weren’t married, nor a couple.
“Dickwad, can you ask your brother where the Takis are?” She questioned, dryly, looking pointedly down at the kid that she didn’t like.
“He’s sitting right there – you can ask him.”
But Kayla wasn’t interested in asking Finn. She just stared expectantly at Dickie, as if she fully expected him to fall to her whims.
Finn cleared his throat, and turned his head to look at her. Calmly, he finally broke the silence he’d kept for so long. “They didn’t have any at the store. I’ll get some more next time.”
With a smirk, Dickie looked at his brother, and then back to Kayla, raising his eyebrow. This was fun. This was something that didn’t allow him to mope. This was like watching fireworks about to explode and see where all the pieces eventually fell. Kayla narrowed her eyes again at Finn, and then inhaled sharply. A devilish smirk came to her face and she looked at Finn pointedly, but still worded her question away from him.
“If you would be so kind, ask him where his plaid pajama pants are. I would like to wear them.”
Dickie rolled his eyes and then sat up further, looking at her. He wasn’t about to do her dirty work. “Why are you still here Kayla, shouldn’t you be feeding off the souls of dying children at the hospital?”
That smirk widened.
“Shouldn’t you be cradling the ten pounds of wasted potential in a championship from a dead company?”
But he wasn’t dissuaded. He narrowed his eyes and titled his head to the side. “Gee, I don’t know, I’d rather cradle a defunct championship than not have one in over a year.”
Kayla glared, the smile slipping from her lips as she stared at Dickie and crossed her arms. “Ouch. Maybe I should be like you and go blow the Australian’s balls.”
Dickie’s smirk widened. It was almost pure amusement as he looked at Finn, and then looked her up and down. He leaned forward, enunciating every little word for her ears to hear without a problem. “They might be an apt substitute for the ones that you’re thirsting after. Maybe you can imagine it’s Finn.”
It worked. Kayla pushed herself off the doorframe and dropped her hands, ready to stomp forward. “Listen here you little rat faced pissweasel–”
“ENOUGH!” Finn snapped, slamming his own feet on the floor and sneering at both of them. Kayla looked at him, a little takenaback and Dickie’s head whipped around to look at him. However, he looked up at her, and when she looked at him, he saw hurt in her features. Miniscule hurt, but hurt nonetheless. Finn rarely snapped at her, and his voice was so deep, it seemed to stun her from time to time. She leaned back, and then went back inside the house. With a hand to his forehead, he leaned back. He still didn’t need Kayla to worry about, but as the days went on, he worried more and more about that relationship falling apart too. And as much as no one understood it, let alone the two of them, he’d gotten used to her being there. He liked her being there.
Dickie snorted and leaned back. “Jesus Christ, if she’s here then who’s running Hell?”
It seemed he fully expected Finn to chuckle and agree, but this time, the Seattle Saint just looked at his little brother and shook his head. “Maybe you should go, kid.”
“What, why?! Don’t tell me you’re defending her. She’s fuckin’ mooching off you and litterally just trying to not have to find her own place. She’s squattin’, and you’re just lettin’ her do it.”
Finn turned his head and looked at her. The next question seemed to stun both of them, but Finn did an excellent job of hiding it. He narrowed his blue eyes and cocked his head to the side. The question would be pointed. Important. And it would tell a lot more about Finn than even he could have expected.
“Do you really think I would have her here if I didn’t want her to be?”
••••••
Normally…normally, I have a lot more to say about opponents. But forgive me, my brain is a little bit saturated with the fact that I haven’t been booked for over two weeks in a company that I’m actually a champion of. I suppose I can forgive Cross and Ryan. Especially since Ryan looks to be out of commission for that heinous fuckin’ display. Although, I can say for certain that no one expected that…kind of like no one fuckin’ expects my opponent this week to come out of this on top.
Hitimashii.
After failing to beat Miles Kasey not once, but twice…you’ve been thrown to the fucking wolves. And I don’t mean that figuratively – you’ve literally been thrown to the Wolf who holds the Roulette Championship. Now, if you watched what happened at Into the Void, you’d realize that you’re not about to be given any leniency. I’m not that kind of dude, and while I may feel for you…I don’t give a flying fuck at the end of the day.
This is business, kid. And business requires me to make an example out of you. You see, I’m not defending my championship…but I still need to make a point. I don’t fall back when it’s people that haven’t shown their face in some time. I don’t let up on anyone. Unfortunately for you, you’re getting someone who is more than willing to go, and more than willing to make sure that people remember who the fuck I am from week to week. They need to remember that the beginning of the card isn’t where I belong…and they’ll learn it eventually. Everyone will learn it. Just like every other company has in the time that I’ve existed within their hemispheres.
I’d say I’m sorry.
But I’m not.
I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do to you, mate. I’m not sorry for what is going to happen, and I’m not sorry that the world is going to be a little bit Hitamashii-less come Climax Control.
Take it as a lesson.
And learn from it. OOC: My apologies. Would have had more, but life kicks ya in the pants often. lol
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