Chapter 74: The Little Things
There weren’t many things when I was a child that gave me joy. I would wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares — still hearing my mother sobbing, begging my father not to hit her again. Or it would be my older brother yelling at my father. At first his voice was that of a child, not too different from mine or my older sister Amber’s voices — childlike in their innocence, begging and pleading for him not to hit our mother. Then the voice had changed. Amber and I, instead of pleading for him not to hit our mother, then pleaded for him not to hit our brother.
The pitch and sound didn’t change. But my brother’s voice, on the other hand, well, that changed a lot. It became deeper, older. And the voice became less about pleading and more about threatening. The two of them would yell at each other. And very slowly, my brother would start to fight back. But it still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t save all of us. And in the end, my brother left. There was a time I blamed him. A time I hated him. I was so angry that he abandoned us that I couldn’t see he needed to. I couldn’t see that even though he was my older brother and physically close to a man, he still wasn’t strong enough. He needed to leave to save himself.
But those are the points in my life and my past that weren’t enjoyable. Those weren’t the moments I treasure. That doesn’t mean my childhood was nothing but sadness, anger, and sorrow. I don’t want to make it seem like that is the kind of life I always had. The typical “woe is me” tale that so many others rely upon to explain away their misdeeds and their inability to become something better — and trust me on this, that is all it is. When people lean upon their past like a crutch it is always done to explain their inability to stand up and be who they need to be. That isn’t me. It has never been me.
Even though I grew up in a working-class neighbourhood in Norwich, that doesn’t mean it was all industrial buildings and homesteads or townhouses. There was some beauty to be found in the world. Near where I lived there was a beautiful park. In spring I had my happiest memories there. Springtime was when my father had the most work, so he couldn’t drink. He was a completely different person. During the spring we would go out, have picnics, sit and watch the birds fly around each other and dogs play. And the smell — how I remember the smell.
I loved it just after the council landscapers had finished with the park. The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the flowers blooming always made me smile. I would sit there, reach out, and let my fingertips dance on the fresh green grass, feeling it under my fingertips and in my palm. I would then move over to the flowers and the red poppies that grew.
Those memories — the ones where I was happy and smiling, the ones where I could sit in the park, listen to the birds, watch the dogs, and know that my siblings and I were safe — those are the memories I treasured most. But those memories very rarely included my father. Even though he was there, even though when I was the youngest I can remember I wanted his attention, those memories are fleeting. Memories of a little girl who didn’t know any better. Those daddy issues tend to linger the most. And they manifest as wanting attention from the wrong kind of man — the kind of man who knows how to manipulate little girls like that.
Something I never had, but something I saw in many of the women who were in the gypsy compound I ended up in. People get it twisted about myself and Jace, about Amber and her relationship with Renée. They think that it’s because of our daddy issues that we fell into these moments, like Amber bringing me to Angel and having her train us both on how to be professional wrestlers while also manipulating us. That had nothing to do with daddy issues and everything to do with insecurity. Jace and Renée and the gypsy compound all had to do with wanting to be loved. Not loved by a father figure like you are all thinking, but loved as an equal. Loved as something more than an object. That is something both Amber and I struggled with growing up the way we did.
I told you all this because I need everyone to understand why I contacted him. After everything he had done and after being spied on and followed constantly, and even after promising Finn I wouldn’t, there is a reason why I had to break that promise and talk to Jace.
I looked over at the kitchen bench, grabbed a handful of mail that had come earlier that day and flicked through it — bills, royalty checks for different merchandise, the usual things. But sitting underneath them was a small box. I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Hearing Finn in the background on the phone, I could hear him swearing at his brother Dickie.
I opened the box and my heart skipped a beat. Sitting inside was a single small red poppy. I swallowed and felt it drop all the way to the pit of my stomach. After a few moments I searched the box, trying to find a return address, but there was none. My hands pulled into fists as anger and frustration bubbled up from underneath. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, grabbing hold of my jacket. I quickly yelled out. ”Going out… be back soon… love you.” I didn’t even stop to hear his response. Walking out of the house, I moved downstairs quickly, scanning around the street before finding a black Chevy parked across the road.
I stormed across the street. The engine clicked on, but before they could leave I reached out and pulled the door open. I found a man and a woman sitting in the front seat; they both stared up at me with shocked looks on their faces. ”Hey — what are you d—”
”Stop. Your fake American accent is atrocious. Just tell me — where is he?”
They could see that I wasn’t screwing around. I knew exactly who they were and what they were doing here. The man turned, looking at the woman with a small nod of annoyance before turning back to me. ”He’s still in New York. We’ve been keeping an eye on you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, before reaching across his body for the phone sitting in the centre console. I grabbed it and shoved it in his face. ”Call him… now.” He unlocked the phone, flicked it to his number, pressed it, and handed the phone to me. It rang a few times before I heard his voice — still as arrogant and cocky as ever.
”This better be important.”
”If you wanted your idiots to stay hidden and you wanted me to think that you were backing off, you’ve done a piss-poor job. A red poppy, Jace? Really? That’s what you’re gonna go with? If you want to try and fuck with me then maybe you should pick something that wasn’t going to be tied back to you so fast.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone before I heard it — the slow chuckle, the creak of a leather office chair as he sat back. I could see him now, sitting in his tailored black suit, a white bottom-of-shirt, his long hair tied back in a bun. That stupid shit-eating grin on his face. ”You have me at a disadvantage, love. I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
”Right. So you are trying to tell me that a box with a red poppy showing up at my house was just a coincidence? There aren’t many people who know about that. In fact, you are one of the only people on this planet who knows about that. I didn’t share that with everybody, Jace.”
I heard him take a deep breath, pushing it out. I could almost feel all of the amusement that was once in his voice disappear. When he spoke, his voice had lost all emotion. It had become monotone, calm, almost disappointed. ”Kayla… I can tell you right now that I had nothing to do with that. If I did, don’t you think I would’ve been gloating about it? Because I would’ve wanted you to know it was me. Now, if we’re done here, give the phone back to that idiot you took it from. I need to have a conversation with him.”
If it was him, he would’ve wanted me to know it was him for sure. He would’ve gloated about it. I turned and started walking away as I could hear Jace on the other end of the phone running down his subordinate. I jogged back across the road toward my home, my mind racing. If it wasn’t him, then who was it? Who sent me that? And for the love of God.....why?
Redemption Part 1
”Who am I?”
Kayla sits in front of a mirror, one leg over the other, her long black hair flowing down her shoulders and back as her bright green eyes stare ahead. Her lips are coated in bright red lipstick as she studies herself in her reflection, feeling as if her mental and emotional limits are about to break as she questions everything about herself.
”Without that championship, who am I? What do I do? I know. I know what I have to do. You see, I need to find myself. I need to find who I am and I need to strive to be that better person. Everyone always thinks about who I was, but no one will ever understand who I am or who I’m going to be. So I’m going to sit here in front of this mirror, in the most cliché and convoluted way possible. I’m going to talk week after week about how badly I want to become champion again and how I have changed for the battle. And then, when I am finally within reach of my goal, when my fingertips are touching it and I am almost where I need to be, I am going to quit.”
“I’m going to quit and I am going to blame all of the management of SCW for my shortcomings. I am going to invent a conspiracy theory and go all over social media talking about how everyone was always against me, despite the fact that I somehow kept succeeding if not for that one sneaky person who was able to defeat me and take it all away. That is the kind of melodramatic slop I should be known for. That amazing amount of trouble-making and whining bullshit that everyone else seems to think is commonplace in this business.”
“Because, as I said, who am I?”[/color]
Kayla takes a deep breath, holding her fist to her chest as she closes her eyes before muttering a few words under her breath.
”And scene!”[\color]
She chuckles, pushing up from her chair and turning away from the mirror, pacing back and forth, sliding her hands into the front pockets of tight-fitting black jeans.
”Yeah, that isn’t me. I’ve never been one to wallow in self-pity or give in to self-doubt. I wish the rest of you would be able to take stock of how people like me react to something like this. Because I’m going to do something there’s so many of you fail to do.....acknowledge the loss. You people want to know what just happened to me at Violet Con? Do you really? Because it’s playing for all to see right there on tape. In fact, you can go back on many streaming services and watch that match and watch the exact moment that I lost. And that is exactly what happened. I lost. And yes, it doesn’t make me happy; it doesn’t make me feel full of rainbows and lollipops and sunshine. In fact, it pisses me off.”
“Losses happen. Now, they don’t happen to me very often, but they happen. Once in a while I will lose a match. I’m not unbeaten, anyone who spends a real length of time in this business never is. If you have had more than ten matches and you are unbeaten and decide to retire then good for you. People like me who have made a career out of what we love, I’m not going to retire undefeated on a pedestal being able to say that no one was ever able to beat me, because that isn’t how this fucking business works. And at Violet Con, Frankie Holiday was able to wrestle the World Bombshell Championship away from me. There are no excuses, there are no calls for it being a fluke. I’m not throwing a tantrum; I’m accepting it and I’m going to do everything I can to get that championship back into my possession.”
“Admittedly it’s kind of bullshit that I have to jump through these hoops like this tournament to get a rematch. Don’t you think? Everyone else talks about how management seems to be against them; I seem to be the one who gets shafted. Anyone else defends a championship and loses it, they get a fucking rematch. Everyone except me, apparently. But hey, that’s fine. I will beat everyone they put in front of me in this tournament while Frankie gets to go and have a free defence against Cassie ‘talentless whore’ Wolfe.”
“You know who she is, right? She’s the one who has exactly the same personality as every other heavy-metal-loving slut that somehow pops their way into this company every couple of months.”
“Well, she is getting a championship opportunity and I’m not. Instead, I’ve been put in this tournament. I have to earn my shot at my championship. And yeah, it pisses me off and annoys me. I would’ve rather been given a championship opportunity based on my past history and what I’m capable of, but if I have to be forced to earn it? So be it. I’d rather be in a tournament than in a random clusterfuck. God knows we have enough of those in this company. So, first round, and who do I get?”
Kayla pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, folding her arms over her chest before laughing and continuing.
”Victoria Lyons. The woman who would be queen. Or at least that’s what she’s told everyone for this entire time. The woman who is always the bridesmaid but never the bride. You ruled over the Roulette Championship division and you did a great job of it, Victoria. You broke all kinds of records, faced the best of the best at the time, and you were able to just keep going. Every single time someone thought your reign was going to end, you proved them wrong and you kept going. I have always been someone who champions people who do everything they can to win and show themselves to be the best of the best, and I’ve told you over and over again that I know you are one of the best. But every single time we face each other and every single time I have to mention you, I have to throw this back in your face because you don’t seem to get it.”
“As great as you are… you are not like me.”
“As talented as you are and as hard as you work, when push comes to shove, Victoria, you simply are not on the same level as people like myself, people like Frankie, people like Amber Ryan, Roxi Johnson, Mikah, or Alicia Lukas. Names of women who were able to climb the ladder and stay on top of the mountain. Women who never had a glass ceiling to break through because of the talent they had. You are on the cusp of that, but you’re not quite there. You are going to be looked at the exact same as Bella Madison, as Mercedes Vargas, as Samantha Marlowe.”
“You might become a world champion.”
“But you will never be the world champion.”[/color]
Kayla pauses again before taking a deep breath and continuing, her eyes burning; she now refocuses on what she wants and what she is ready to accomplish as we head into the next climactic control.
”But you still have an opportunity. You have an opportunity to beat me and go on to win this tournament and then go after Frankie. And let’s face it, it’s going to be Frankie and not Cassie. Anyone who actually believes that Cassie can beat her honestly needs to stop watching professional wrestling because you clearly know nothing. But you have an opportunity, Victoria. You have an opportunity to prove myself and everyone else wrong who ever told you that you can’t get to the top of the mountain. The only problem is that it all starts with me. Everyone else who’s in this tournament you’ll be able to handle pretty easily. Me? I’m the biggest challenge in this thing and you drew me in the first round.”
“Sucks to be you.”
“And you are also going against me at a point where I’m present in the situation and I’m here ready to go. Now, what I mean by that is when I’m on top or when I’m in a situation where I’ve been there for a while I start to become complacent. And that’s just the truth, people become complacent when they are in a position for a long amount of time and that’s what happens. But you are now facing me just after I’ve lost my fucking championship. And every single time I have lost a championship, whether it’s the Internet Championship, all the mixed tag-team championships, or the World Bombshell Championship, I have come back stronger and better than I was before.”
“I lost the Internet Championship and then cleared out that division and held it twice more. I lost the mixed tag-team championships, came back and won them, and laughed the entire time while I did it. And the last two times I lost that world championship I came right back and did everything I could to get my hands back on it, because that’s what a champion does and that’s what I have always done.”
“But now, Vicky, well, now everyone seems to believe that a torch has been passed. That it’s Frankie’s time and the rest of us are just here to live in her division. Like I’m old news or some bullshit. Old news, I’m still younger than most of the women on this roster. I’m not even thirty. And I’ve accomplished more in this business than most people will in their lifetime. In the four years I’ve been in this company, there have been only a handful of months when I haven’t held gold. I feel naked and wrong without a championship around my shoulder or around my waist or in my hands. And now you are standing in my way, Victoria.”[/color]
Kayla plants her hands on the table and leans forward, her nose turning upwards as her lips curl into a snarl.
”You are in my way and I need to get you out of my way. You are the first challenge in this. The first step on my road to my championship. And if you think that I’m easy pickings because I just lost and you are a big fool, you’ve got it wrong. You and your entire family are talented but I am the most talented one in my family full of killers. My sisters are champions, my brother is a champion, my fiancé is one of the best in the fucking world. And you, Victoria, are facing one of the best this company has ever seen and one of the most dangerous women this company has ever seen, and you are facing me at a time when I am so pissed off that the usual rules of engagement go right out the window. And you and I both know I didn’t have a lot of rules to begin with.”
“So this week, I’m not gonna kill your dreams, Victoria. I’m gonna steal your fucking soul.”[/color]
