Post by Tritch on Nov 7, 2016 16:00:33 GMT -5
If you just give me some time, I can open your mind
After so many hours in the dark, the light can actually start to burn. His hand shoots to his face, covering his eyes as a guttural groan croaks out and he rolls over onto his stomach, pulling the blanket up to cover his head. “Why do you torture me?”
“It’s what I live for,” the smiling visage of Ashlyn De Luca stands proudly in front of a large window, the blinds now retracted to either wall allowing the sun to shine brightly into the room. She casts a glance at various points of the room; beer cans littering the floor, several pipes and baggys on different dressers, and then something shiny, lying in a clump half tucked under the bed - one of the Sin City Wrestling Tag Team Championship belts. “Is this what you live for now?”
“Do you see any difference?” The dry, raspy voice of Tommy Evans rings out from beneath the covers, just barely above a whisper.
“Touche, salesman,” she drops to a knee on the corner of the bed and crawls over to him, laying down on his back. She rubs her fingers through his hair gently, and the disgruntled expression on his face slowly gives way as he starts to fall back asleep. Then she leans in closer, lips right next to his ear, and whispers... “You’re late for training.”
“Fuck!” Like Barry Allen on Tuesday nights, he shoots out of the bed and towards the bathroom door in the corner, flicking on the light and quickly turning on the shower. Within seconds, he’s standing naked beneath the water with a toothbrush in his mouth, and Ashlyn rolls over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling with a smirk. Tommy shouts at her from the bathroom, never having shut the door. “What day is it? Cardio? Strength? Bumps? Basics? Would you even know?”
“It’s Sunday,” she calls out, stifling a laugh as she scrolls through something on her phone. In response, there is silence, and then the shower head turns off. She laughs beneath her breath and shakes her head, staring intently at her phone, and suddenly Tommy leaps onto the bed having never dried off.
“You bitch,” he yells on top of her, and she screams and rolls over, trying to escape his wet hugs.
“Ew, put some pants on or something, not trying to get that D after looking at this place,” she finally breaks free and pushes up to her feet, turning to cast a disgusted look his way. “I’m a goddamn movie star, it’s time you treated me like one.”
“Alright, Hollywood. What is it you want?” He stands up and walks toward his dresser, pulling out some boxers and shorts. She groans heavily, and falls backwards like dead weight onto the bed, bouncing up and down a couple times.
“I want to smoke like two bowls, I want some better coffee than that shit your brother makes, and I want you to get a damn job. You’re starting to bum me out,” she looks at him upside down from the bed, and he turns around, bending over to give her a kiss before starting to pick up some of the beer cans. “I mean, you’re 20 years old, so maybe your room is supposed to look like a frat house, but like- you’re not in college, so why?”
“I’m just- just-” he stutters, picking up a plate with a piece of pizza on it and smelling it to poor results.
“You’re j-j-just what? Melting into nonexistence? Getting fat on pizza and beer? Jealous of my success?” She smirks at that last one, sitting up and watching as he keeps cleaning up the floor.
“Since I got away from my dad, I’ve been following my brother’s wrestling career. Aside from that one stretch of time where I was training beneath a handful of possibly-homicidal maniacs in Mexico, I’ve been by his side, watching him climb to the top,” he falls to a seated position on the corner of the bed, and doesn’t see Ashlyn roll her eyes.
“Exactly, you’ve always been following in his footsteps. That’s why it was so easy for you to get trapped in his shadow,” she scoots around the bed, placing a hand on his leg and her head on his shoulder.
“Yeah but now- now we finally did something together. We won the SCW tag titles, and- and he’s just- he’s done,” Tommy shakes his head, eyes falling down to the championship gold tucked halfway under his bed. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Well this place is looking and smelling better already, so you could do me,” she lifts a leg up and places it over his, causing him to laugh and shake his head. “This is your chance, babe. He’s not casting a shadow anymore. It’s time for you to rise up and stand tall and build your own legacy, build up your family’s legacy even further. It’s the year of Suicide!” They both pause, eyes squinting and heads tilting. He casts a sideways glance at her. “I mean, we’ll have to work on the marketing scheme, but...”
He chuckles, leaning forward and kissing her. “Where’s Sam?”
“Living room with Becky. So, I mean, we do have like a few minu-” before she can finish, he pushes her backwards onto the bed and walks to the door, clicking the lock into place as she pulls off her shirt.
If you le-le-let it shine, you can free-ee-ee your mind
“Alright everybody, listen up. I’m high as fuck but we’ve got shit to do,” Tommy strolls up to the ring with a hooded sweatshirt pulled far over his head - nearly covering his pink, bloodshot eyes - and matching, #BRUTALapparel sweatpants. He has a coffee in his hand and he very carefully hops up onto the apron, leaning his head against one of the turnbuckles. After a deep breath, he looks up at the eight faces in front of him. “Rex is taking care of some business, so you’re mine for the first hour today. As I’m sure you’re aware by now, that does not mean we’re all going to go out back and smoke a bowl.
“That was a one time thing, and you guys didn’t get yelled at. I did. So Today I want you guys in there cross-running the ropes for fifteen minutes. Two of you in each ring. Becky, Mason, you guys are my eyes in the other two rings. You see something wrong, help them out, and let me know,” Tommy takes a drink of coffee and then a deep breath, before sighing for almost ten seconds. “Alright, break.”
He slowly pulls himself up onto the turnbuckle, perching at the top and staring down as Kelly and Trent begin running in the ring. He watches as the big man tries to pick up speed, and watches Trent roll his eyes every time he passes him. “Alright, Easy. Pick up the pace. You should be able to hit both sides before he hits one. Cross in front of him and cross behind him. Just don’t hit him, because you know how bad that hurts.”
Trent groans but nods and follows his instructions, hitting both sides of the ring as Kelly hits one, and so on. Tommy nods a few times himself, taking a sip of his coffee and glancing up at the next ring. He sees Mason pull Vince aside, showing him exactly how he should be hitting the ropes each time he connects, to minimize the risk of injury and optimize his momentum. In the far ring Becky has pulled Lisa away from the ropes and starts running them herself, weaving across Cesar’s path a few times before peeling away to explain herself.
He takes another sip of his coffee with a smile, his eyes returning to The Hills in his own ring, watching as their backs connect with the ropes almost perfectly. The corner of his lip turns up a bit each time Trent’s back connects, smiling at the pain ingrained in his expression. He never saw himself as a trainer, never even saw himself as a successful athlete. But here he is, teaching people. And those people are listening. No matter how advanced some of them are, or how cocky and condescending others are.
They’re listening to him. They’re learning from him. And he likes that.
“Alright, bump drills. Let’s go,” he shouts with a smirk, getting a loud set of groans in response. “Keep it up and I’ll change that to chop drills.”
And now that it’s over, I’ll never be sober
Certain sounds can evoke different feelings in a person. A baby crying can spark your maternal or paternal instinct. A horn honking means you or somebody around you probably fucked up. There were three sounds that could immediately send Tommy into a state of unequivocal bliss. The crackle of a lighter burning paper, the sound of the bell ringing, and his mother fucking Ducati.
VRRRRRTT-VRR-VRRRRRTTTTT
He kicked it to life, bringing a hand up to knock the glass protector over his eyes before at last picking his foot up off the cement and propelling himself forward. The roar of the engine purred against his eardrums as he pulled out of the parking lot and sped up down the streets. Trees became a blur, other vehicles were easily avoidable nuisances, pedestrians shook their fists and yelled words that didn’t even make it to deaf ears. The whole while, a smile plastered on his face behind that glass protector.
He was at home here, on the road, driving unreasonably fast, annihilating the speed limit. This is where he cleared his head, found peace. The ring evoked the same sense of home, but that was where he worked. This is where he didn’t have to answer to anybody but death, a guy whose face he loved laughing into.
Leaning quickly to the right he made an aggressively sharp turn, and then pulled back on the accelerator again in such quick succession that his front wheel came off the pavement. He road like that, wheel in the air, for a few yards until it slammed violently back on the pavement and he sped back up. He was completely free.
Completely alive in the face of death.
I couldn’t believe, but now I’m so high
“Who was that square?” Tommy stepped into the doorway of Rex’s office, hand on either side of the frame, as he craned his neck to follow a man with a cane and fancy suit toward the front door. After he disappeared, Tommy’s gaze turned towards his older brother behind the desk, and the disgruntled expression on his face. Tommy made a woof sound at the look Rex was presenting, falling into the chair across from him and immediately putting his feet up on the corner of the cocobolo. “He clearly got under your skin.”
“Name’s Rorey. Came in here talking about Code Red Wrestling. I’ve been getting so many fucking calls from desperate promoters lately that I might have some preconceived opinions formed in my head,” he takes a deep breath, finally making eye contact with his little brother.
“So what you’re saying is, you were a dick,” Tommy offers a cheesy, overstated smile in response. “But what do you mean he was talking about CRW?”
“I don’t know, I- uh- didn’t really let him get a word in edgewise. The whole idea pissed me off,” Rex sighed, leaning back in his chair to grab a protein shake off the shelf behind him.
“What idea? You’ve been dreaming of Code Red opening its doors back up since it closed,” Tommy shifts his weight, genuinely interested now.
“I don’t think it was the idea of CRW reopening that upset me, but the idea that if it was… Talon doesn’t even have enough respect to shoot me a DM about it, let alone a phone call,” Rex snarls, taking a big sip of shake. “Instead, I find out from some single-named suit I’ve never heard of let alone seen before. Plus, his response at the end.”
“Oh, shit. Big cane fire back?” Tommy starts to smirk, leaning back in the chair again as he produces a bag of weed from his hoodie pocket to roll a joint.
“I told him Talon was the only man who’d be able to stop me from fully committing to retirement, and he retorted something along the lines of ‘if he does come down here and convince you to sign, you’ll regret ever speaking to me like that’,” the muscles in Rex’s jaw tense, and a glint of fire glosses over them for a moment. Tommy immediately drops his project on the floor and pops up onto his feet in the chair, fist closed at his mouth as he shouts…
“Ohhhhh snap!” Accompanied by impressed laughter. He shakes his head, slapping the arm of the chair with his free hand.
“And then, he said he wasn’t even here to talk to me,” Rex makes direct eye contact with Tommy, that fire still clinging just slightly and Tommy starts to calm down. “Said he was expecting to sit down with you. Wants you to go talk to him at the UA.”
“Daaaaaaamn. So he basically slapped you right in the mouth with words,” Tommy climbs back down to a seated position, retrieving his project from the floor as his eyes go a bit distant. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing, he walked out,” Rex took a long, deep breath. “You should go, if you want to.”
“Nah, I’m not gonna play you dirty like that,” Tommy responds, licking the paper as he puts the finishing touches on.
“You wouldn’t be. You didn’t get to experience Code Red Wrestling the first time around,” Rex starts, sending a chill down Tommy’s spine as he strolls through the memories of what he was doing while Rex was climbing the Code Red ladder. “If this new Code Red offers even half the experience that it offered me the first time, then that’s an experience you want to have. CRW is a home. It won’t treat you like Ice Dog or Phoenix did. It’ll treat you like its own son.”
“Guess I’ll think about it,” Tommy grows distant for a moment, eyes glued to something on the floor. Or maybe they were glued to nothing. He shook his head, and looked up at his brother with a goofy, faked smile. “But first, I’m’a go smoke this joint.
“You good?” He asks with a point as he rises to his feet, sticking the joint between his lips. Rex nods in response, and Tommy exits the office, leaning his back against a wall almost as soon as he’s out of sight. He runs a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath and sighing.