Lost Love
Scene One | Off-Camera | 3rd October 2022
“Hey Lexi.”
Sweet, soft and gentle words. He hadn’t heard them in a long time. His first love, the person he thought he’d spend his life with. If it hadn’t been for Lauren, he might never have found another. Lauren showed him happiness in a life that was devoid of it for a long time.
“Hey… Lu.”
He’d have to crack James in the jaw later. There was few people in the world he wanted to see less than Luna. A wounded heart never truly heals, not for him. Lauren patched him up for years, and hated Luna every time she reared her head; which was a lot. Hard to avoid when they’re related to a good friend. James had organised a night out. He failed to mention he’d invited Luna. But of course he did, why wouldn’t he have?
“Saw what the big ol’ brute did to ya, sugarpie. How’s the head, baby?”
Luna Pasilno, James’ sister. He could deal with the pet names and sweeter than sugar tones from James. With Luna, they stung. Always sweet, always caring. Yet she was the only one that would ever get away with calling him Lexi. He hated it. He fucking hated it.
“I’m a big boy. I’ll live.”
She brushed her hand along his forearm as she placed herself down in the booth seat next to him. They were in a slightly nicer place than their usual dives. Luna would fit in anywhere, but she was dressed to the nines tonight. And Alex knew exactly why.
“There you are, rockstar.”
The sharp slap of a hand on his shoulder, and the tight squeeze. Reassuring even if it did make his shoulder scream with pain.
“Oh, right. Sorry Ravey.”
James loosened his grip and rounded the booth, placing a kiss to his sister’s cheek before settling himself into the opposite booth seat. A server not far behind placing down two pints of rather dark beer, and an espresso martini. Luna sighed with delight as she swept up the glass.
“No need to apologise, brother. I’ll let you know about it later.”
James smiled, and shrugged pretending to be ignorant to the deeper meaning. James never held it against Raven for it not working out with Luna. They were young, wild and probably in lust more so than in love. Yet, she broke his heart. Alex wouldn’t forget that.
“So what’s the plan? He fucks you, you fuck him, he probably fucks you again, you probably fuck him again. Round and round, and BAM! You’re laying in a bed sore and broke, with Lulu and I here to baby ya. What’s the plan, rockstar?”
“Language Jimmy, lady present.”
James snorts and the siblings burst into laughter. James smacks the table, Alex can’t help but smile. He was acutely aware of Luna’s hand on his arm, shaking it off as he reached for his drink. If looks could kill, the side glance from Luna would’ve slashed his throat. Momentary, but Raven saw it. Luna wasn’t one to be slighted, even still. Something James and her shared, was that look. The one that could strike fear into any person. Not menacing, or intimidating. But sharp, filled with ice. Like a cold blade.
“I got his attention, he got mine. You know me, I’m unable to let things be. But, we can talk about that another time. What brings the both of you States side? Thought you weren’t interested anymore.”
James cocks a sly grin, and nods just slightly at Luna. She bats her eyes innocently, before taking a sip of her drink. Alex turned in his seat a little to look at her, a huge grin spreading across her face.
“Seeing you getting all hot and heavy, sugar bug. Well, it just made me shiver and shake with desire, and not the no-no tango kinda shivers. Itching and shaking kind of tingles, lover. I wanna get in the ring ago, big boy. Even Jimmy been thinking about lacing up again. You inspire us, Lexi.”
Not a chance in hell. Even though Raven spouts about The Conspiracy on a near weekly basis, it’d become more symbolic than anything else. Long gone were the days of them as a group. James, Luna, Pleasant and Rines, and of course, Raven. The Conspiracy. Those days were long gone.
“Wipe the fear, rockstar. I’m thinking about it, but if I was gonna lock up, it’d be for me. I ain’t no water boy no more. James does for James and only James. You feel me, Ravey boy?”
“If you needed a hand though, Lexi. Might be a good way for me de-rust.”
Luna’s mocking wink, James’ Cheshire grin. He should have known their arrival together would be nothing but trouble. He rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and then shut them, drinking deeply. Her hand was now resting upon his knee.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone who needs a hand, Lu. I’ve been working with Sully and Harry; maybe you could give them a call.”
Alex’s gaze settled on James, who was still all smiles. No reaction to the mention of contact with Sullivan and Rines. They mustn’t have mentioned that Alex had been looking into Leon. Quiet happenings in the background.
“Maybe the bitey boy club would take you in Lulu. Ravey baby wouldn’t be able to ignore you then, would ya, rockstar?”
Luna snorted this time, and the two of them erupted into laughter again. Luna hitting the table with her fist this time. Other patrons had looked at them, disdainful gazes for the boisterous behaviours.
“Might be a good idea, Lu. The lady wolf might give you the handling you need.”
Luna smiled and twisted on the spot leaning her back up against his arm and pressing her head into his cheek. James smiled at someone in the distance, and tapped the table with his knuckles getting to his feet.
“Old face just shimmied in. I’ll be back, lovers.”
Please no. Before Raven could respond, James was up and crossing the room, slapping another on the shoulder. He breathed in deeply, the smell of coffee and perfume wafting into his nostrils. She always did smell nice.
“Don’t worry, Lexi. You know I couldn’t. I got a lot mendin’ to do, sweetheart. Jimmy says you ain’t done much loving since she kissed her farewell. I know we didn’t get along, lover, but I do care about you.”
Alex held his eyes tightly closed, drinking deeply. He felt her lift herself off his shoulder and sat back normally, her hand once again falling on her leg, this time mid-thigh.
“You broke my heart, Lu. She fixed it, and then it broke again. I don’t do much loving anymore. I focus on what matters. Making changes, making them listen and finding my own success.”
“I know, baby. I know. Don’t you forget, we all followed blindly once. Broken led by the broken, and you gave us reason. We found our footing, sugar. We found our happiness. I’m sorry I hurt you, Lexi, truly. I found my peace, Jimmy found his peace. Hell even the old boys found theirs. You lost yours, and that ain’t right. Let us help you, like you helped us.”
Sweet, soft and gentle words.
God he fucking hated her.
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. I have my peace, and I always will. She’s gone, I know that. But I always have her close, and that is what matters to me. I’m content.”
Luna sighed slightly, pushing a bit of extra air out through her nose is a gentle laugh. She didn’t need to believe him. It mattered not to him whether anyone truly believed him. What matters, is that he believed himself. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
“Time to bottoms up, and faces puckered kiddos. Daddy’s got the liquid gold.”
Liquid gold meant tequila. Bad tequila. It was going to be a long night. Hopefully, one with more laughs than bittersweet talk of the past. The both of them being here, it was nice. They hadn’t been together in years. James and Alex always kept in touch, Lu had her own way. She sort of drifted after Leon was forced out. Alex always just assumed there was some underlying attraction.
Why did the thought of it make him… mad?
James settled back into his seat, placing a row of shot glasses upon the table. The shimmering gold tinged liquid inside staring a hole straight into him.
“You’re the worst, ‘daddy’.”
James screwed his face up and punched Alex straight in the chest. The three of them laughed again, others nearby throwing even more shady side glances their way.
“You ain’t got the right, rockstar. No way, daddio.”
The three of them picked up their shots, cheers, clinked and knocked back the shots. A smack of the lips and sigh of content from James. Sour faces and a burning sensation for the other two.
“Jimmy, Lexi here don’t need our help. I told ya, we shoulda stayed home. The oh so powerful king of The Conspiracy don’t need no old followers no more. Do ya, sweet pea?’
The joy seemed to drain from James face almost instantly. A split second, that look of disdain and ice. Cutting deep. Then as quick as it came, it was replaced with the warm smile again. Luna was on her game tonight.
“Bullshit kid. Absolute bull fucking shit, you hear me? I know I left, Alex. I know I ran away, and I’m sorry for that brother. I am truly sorry. Darkness creeps into the mind of an old addict, you feel me? I couldn’t watch you losing yourself after you spent so long finding it. But I realised. I realised that you do need us, rockstar. You need us, you’re just in damn denial about it. Family, brother. Family is what we are, and don’t you fucking forget it.”
James smacked his palm on the table top, and stared across, straight into Alex’s eyes. Alex swallowed deep and looked back. James wasn’t trying to guilt him. He could see it in his eyes. The pain, the longing. He missed it, just as much as Alex did when he crossed the sea and stepped into the ring again. A year on the sidelines was driving him nuts.
“I get it, James. But I don’t need nobody holding my hand. I don’t need nobody lifting me up. You want back, you’re back. No questions asked. I’m not your leader, not now, not then, not ever. Friends, family. Family, James. You too, Lu. As much as I hate to admit it. But I’m doing this for myself, by myself. You feel me, brother?”
James just wore that Cheshire grin, from ear to ear. Luna snaked her arms around Alex’s and hugged herself tightly to it. She was still as soft and warm as she once had been.
Did he still? No, of course not.
“Next rounds on me, lover. Then you got us all night, Ruler of none.”
Alex simply shook his head, and closed his eyes, using his free arm to grab his beer again, draining the rest of it. James leaned back in the seat, and drummed his fingers on the tabletop.
“Alright, that’s enough. Lulu, get some drinks. We’re gon’ party tonight. Aren’t we, rockstar?”
Sweet, soft and gentle words.
His head would hurt tomorrow.
The Little Battler from the Land of Lakes
Scene Two | On-Camera | 4th October 2022
“It’s interesting to me, Lachlan. How many of your wolf brethren, claim allegiance in nothing but name. Yet run to each others aid when the need arises. It’s interesting to me, Lachlan. That despite the claims that they are associates by nothing more than name, how easily they all take offence to one plucky little bird screeching about their hypocrisy. It’s interesting to me, Lachlan. That despite that, you remain almost the most silent. Perhaps the only one who truly doesn’t care for them. Or perhaps the only one that truly understands the grievance I’ve taken with your ilk. It’s interesting to me, Lachlan. That despite two of your kind coming from that quaint little island, total extinction of wolves at human hands, is the reality of it. The red-blooded, plucky Irish; akin to the wolf, yet hailing from a land that did nothing but kill them. It’s interesting to me, Lachlan. I am interested.”
A hooded figure stands alone. The hood pulled low over the eyes, an arm outstretched. Seated upon the arm of the person is a black bird. A Raven. In a circle around the figure, what appears to be stone carvings of wolf heads, upon them candles. The small green field descends into darkness beyond the reach of the candlelight, the flickering flames dancing their shadows across the figure.
“Obsession. I am a man known for it, Lachlan. Obsession. I tend to be guided by the obsessions my mind leads me to. The devouring of knowledge, the obsession with understanding. Understanding the past, to understand the future. The world around us, paints our future in a way we would never anticipate. Obsession, Lachlan. Obsession and interest. With the wolves biting at my wings, I’ve become obsessed with knowing more. To understand why it is that despite all the crying and cowing to the alternate, every single one of you spouts complete hypocrisy. I’ve bashed heads with Finn multiple times in the past. I’ve bashed heads with Miles. I’ve bashed heads with King James, and hell, I’ve even traded verbal barbs with the succubus herself. Obsession leads me to a great number of places, and understanding of that obsession finds me clarity. How is that the man from the land of extinct wolves, thinks referring to me as ‘Ginger pubes’ is even vaguely insulting. It interests me, that the one more likely to own a fire crotch, cannot identify brown from red. I digress, however. For it is the scrapper himself that draws the ire. The Little Battler from the Land of Lakes. Lachlan Kane.”
The raven croaks slightly, jumping off the outstretched arm. It lands near one of the carvings, the closest to the outstretched right arm. Upon the forehead of the carving, L. K. is painted on in white paint. The bird picks up a stone, and begins to bang it on the wolf head, the slight clatter of stone on stone.
“Do you know much about Macha? She was a sovereignty goddess of ancient Ireland. The goddess of war, life and death. All three interconnected and one not to be held without the other. The Great Queen, or the Phantom Queen. She was one aspect of the Triple Goddess, the Morrigan. She would often be seen accompanied by the messenger of life and death itself. The raven. It’s interesting, however how often the raven comes up in Irish history. Obsession, Lachlan. It leads me to knowledge. King Arthur lived on in the form of a Raven. It’s considered incredibly unlucky to kill one for to do so, would be to kill King Arthur himself. A bird of prophesy, insinuation that Badb was cleaning the armour of a doomed king, came across by King Cormac himself. Yet, the most interesting thing I found was a Gaelic Proverb. ‘There is wisdom in a raven’s head.’ ‘To have a raven’s knowledge’ is an Irish proverb meaning to have a Seer’s foresight. The wisest of animals, Irish culture reveres my namesake. Yet despite the world showing nothing but love, adoration and obsession for corvids, you picked to be a wolf. A flea-ridden, mangy and oversized mutt.”
“I find it interesting, Lachlan. For at the end of my pouring. The end of my obsession. In all my researching and reading, I learnt something.”
“It means absolutely fucking nothing.”
The person spins on their heel rapidly. Swishing their robe widely, extinguishing the candles. Darkness fills the area now devoid of candlelight, croaks and cries of Ravens fill the air. Bouncing off each other and building to a thunderous cacophony. Bird crying over bird and all other sound being drowned out.
“Nothing.”
A row of candelabra line the centre of a long wooden table. The sound of birds ebbs away, and the candles in the candelabra begin to ignite. Sitting at the head of the table, the hooded figure once more. Their chair was like an ornate wooden throne, two domes sitting at the top of the long back piece. Sitting upon them is two ravens, preening themselves. In front of the figure, the carving of the wolf head once again, the L. K. on it’s head now broken. The head of the stature is now cracked and open on top. The top of the head removed.
“For all the research, all the obsession. For all the words, tales and bickering, a truth. Failure seems to be the tale of my fate. Before we left, I had won what I saw as my deserved crown. I became the Roulette Champion, dethroning our potential future king. The very colourblind wolf we both know. I beat him, and the wolf that would soon clip my own wings. Yet as soon as I stepped off that boat. Stepped into the land of rebirth, failure. I lost to Jack. I lost to Miles. I came back, and I lost to Ken. Failure, Lachlan. Yet, where I have failed I created a potential for success. I know about the power of loyal friends. I know about the power of loyal factions. I know the power, for once I stood at the head of my own Conspiracy. Guiding others who were just as lost, just as broken. I understand about the defense of others, but I do not accept it. For there is a truth I taught my followers. There is a truth I always teach. Rely not on the words of another, when your own actions fail you. Fight your own battles, and intervene not in the wars not your own. All members of The Conspiracy fought for themselves. Listened to guidance, and found their light. Broken became fixed, and in that they became whole once more. No reliance on others.”
“Yet you wolves, you belie the very essence of that ideology. Screaming about their independence, yet running to defend the very ideology that they refute. Hypocrisy, Lachlan. Do you understand? I think you do. I think you truly understand my frustration, for you. You remain quiet, don’t you? Juvenile insults do not leave your mouth. Actions that demand retribution do not become you. Unlike the fire crotch, and the simple minded brute. Unlike the love lorn loser who speaks with a mouth full of dirt, struggling to speak an actual coherent word. No, unlike those who gain my ire, you sit silent. I appreciate that. I like that. And yet, a target you remain. For a wolf you are, and a crowned one at that. Championship gold. For a failure, I seem to have the luck of it. I must be doing something right, even in my own downfalls. It’s been almost a year since I first locked up in this Sin City. I’ve won and lost gold. I’ve fought many wolves, had a chance to become king, stood in the main event against Ken Davison and now you. You, Lachlan Kane, are next on the board for the path of Alexander Raven.”
To absolutely no-one’s surprise, the hooded figure flicks back the hood to reveal themself as none other than Alexander Raven. His eyes fixated upon the cracked wolf’s head statue. The birds continue to preen, occasionally croaking out. Leaning forward, he reaches into the opening in the top of the skull. He slowly pulls out a red fleshy lump, a piece of meat. Both ravens cry out loudly, swooping down from the domes to land on the table. Immediately beginning to peck and pull even more meat from inside the head.
“Something that has become ever more true is this. Desperation is dangerous for those who come across Alexander Raven. I was desperate to prove myself when I stepped into the Roulette Championship match with Finn. Nobody expected the failure, the loser, Alexander Raven to win. Yet win I did, and then I did it again. To stamp the point more, I found redemption. I beat Bill Barnhart himself to prove that it was no fluke. That Alexander Raven had found his stride. Yet, as quick as I succeeded, failure. Miles took the belt, Jack showed me to be a blustering buffoon and Ken Davison put an exclamation that he would not become the martyr for my redemption. Failure, Lachlan. My mind focused elsewhere, for the obsession. Obsessed with wolves, when the truth laid before me. Trust and focus would get me to the same place. By putting my trust in my own fate, the Wolves were placed at my feet. You were placed at my feet, and I can make something of it.”
“The truth is, Lachlan. Silence or otherwise. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter. For me, it isn’t about beating you. It’s not about beating any of you. It’s for making the hypocrites become truthful with themselves. To illicit change in the mentality. Failure leading to more chances at success isn’t undeserved. No, it’s a faith. A faith placed in me by those who see the muck and filth that comes with the mongrels of gnashing teeth and hypocrisy. A faith that I will illicit the change I speak of. I will fix the incestuous mixings and hypocrisy that pervades this Sin City. No more Wolfslair influencing every aspect of this place. No more people who suffocate out any who would stand against them. I will systematically take down every person I see as a barrier to change. You, Lachlan. You are the beginning of the systematic change I seek to make. You hold the Internet Championship. You hold the next crown I need, to justify the faith put in me. The faith that I can make the change.”
Alex leaned forward and banged his fist on the table top. The two ravens screeching as they fly off in opposite directions. Their crows echoing in the air. Raven leaned forward, grabbing the statute.
“So, Lachlan Kane. The Little Battler of the Land of Lakes. What do you intend to do? Justification would be to lay me out. Put Alexander Raven down, so that King James need not even worry. I wonder, do you he will stay his hand to ensure you and I get to fight clean? I didn’t stay mine. I took his opportunity, because he took mine. I’ve seen what Ken Davison can do now. You’ve seen what Ken Davison can do. Both of us have had plenty of time to study the tapes, listen and understand. We both know what it takes to beat the King, but do we have the power to put the other down? For me, Lachlan. Failure builds upon failure, and nobody will be surprised if I fall short again. Nobody will even acknowledge that there was a contest. I’m nothing if not respectful in defeat. I’m cocky in success, arrogant if you will. But I am nothing if not humble when laid down. I praised Miles for beating me. No small feat in a match of violence. I praised Knox for beating me, and he was happy to acknowledge the contest. Ken and I, we haven’t spoke since, but I can guarantee you. The respect we held before is immensely more now.”
“The truth, like it was for Ken. Is the same for you, Little Scrapper. Proving yourself to be better than the man who wants nothing more than to prove you, and your cohorts, nothing but hypocritical failures. Everything to gain, and nothing to lose. Lachlan Kane however. You have everything to lose, and in loss prove the success of Alexander Raven. Prove the truth in my words, and make a fool of those who so adamantly disregard their own associations for the sake of not appearing reliant. Bizarre how many solitary wolves there are in this little pack. Prove me wrong, Lachlan, and it doesn’t matter. Prove me right and it leads to more questions. Questions about whether Alexander Raven is just a prattling child who cannot back up what he says. Questions about whether Alexander Raven is nothing more than arrogant and annoying gnat upon the ass of this Sin City. Questions about whether or not Alexander Raven even deserves the chances he’s been given if he continues to squander them. Does it even matter?”
Alex slowly picks up the wolf head, before slamming it rapidly onto the wooden table. A loud bang filling the air, small chips breaking off. Once again he picks it up slowly, and bangs it back down quickly. And again. And again. And again.
“Climax Control, the penultimate match of the night. To prove myself I grab the scrappy little runty wolf, twist it’s head and break its fucking neck. I take the Little Scrapper, and I put him in his place. Beneath my boot, and under my reign. Carrion for the birds. Food for my Conspiracy. Truth, Lachlan. The truth is what interests me, and the truth lies in the faith of my success. The success I know to be forthcoming.Failure is just another learning experience, and I’ve much wisdom learnt. So, Lachlan. The Little Battler. Are you ready to face Alexander Raven? Are you ready to face the visage of War, Life and Death? For the war we enter defines the life and death of us and the future. Your failure, proves my life. My failure… well. What does my failure prove?”
“But importantly, there is another who need listen. And listen well, King James. I do not take a slight mildly. I hear what you say. I see what you think. You aim to step to me, to play the battle of wits. I admire a man who tries. The defensive nature is not a good one on you, and let it be known. Any cheap shot is nothing more than that. A cheap fucking shot, and I’ve heard them all. I’ve heard all the quotes, all the jokes. I’ve heard all the references and I’ve heard all the excuses for making them. Fourteen god damn years I’ve done this. Fourteen years I’ve listened to the same things over and over. I do not fear you, King James. I do not fear any of you. I make my mistakes, like any man does. But you. Speak of beating me, when you kick the wounded bird like it makes you a powerful beast. The hunter who hunts wounded prey is not a good hunter, King James. So listen to me, and listen well. I want you to watch. I don’t care if you do it from home, from the crowd, from commentary or even in the god damn corner of the fucking ring. I do not care where you do it, I just need you to watch. I’m going to hurt Lachlan. I’m going to put him down, and break the runts shitty little neck. Then I’m going to hold up the Internet Championship. The validation of my claims. I’m going to hold it up, and I’m going to call your bitch ass out.”
One more slam, and the statue breaks. Inside were two playing cards. An ace of hearts, and a face down card.
“I’m ready to play for some High Stakes, King James.”
“Lachlan Kane. Listen, follow and understand. Come Sunday, I will be the winner. That’s the truth of it. And when I stand with my foot on your chest, I want you to take that knowledge. Take it with you, and let everyone know. Alexander Raven is not just bluster. Alexander Raven is not just talk. Alexander Raven is the real god damn deal. And he will win.”
He flips the face down card. A Raven is emblazoned as the face, wearing a crown. Diamonds hanging from its feet. A king of diamonds.
“Looks like fate, is on my side.”
He bangs the table once more, the candles quickly extinguishing. A gust of air. The croaks and cries of birds filling the air and darkness once more. A cacophony of birds.
“Do you understand me now?”
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.
