Post by thewhiterose on May 29, 2021 20:19:35 GMT -5
"Are you fucking kidding me, boy?" I couldn't tell you what my father was wearing as he yelled this at me. I couldn't tell you the expression on his face. Hell, I couldn't tell you what time of day it was.
What I do remember vividly was the sore reddened scabs on my knuckles that I picked at nervously. The salty tears dripping from my cheeks onto those hands. And I could tell you every sent in the house: from the sweet, hopeful aroma of my mother making a peach cobbler in the other room; to the overwhelming stench of Pabst and stale cigarettes that was so potent it stung my eyes. They say when one sense goes the others kick in, and I guess that's why I remember that pungent stink so vividly, because I refused to look up. I knew, however, that was an option I wouldn't have for long.
I was correct. "Look at me you thick-headed little punk." Father grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me with a jolt, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "I have given you everything. My time, my wisdom, my prayers, and I ask for nothing in return other than a SON who acts like a FUCKING SON. Yet you somehow even fail at that. If I get one more call from Sister Mary that she had to crack your knuckles because you're... being 'overly friendly' with the other boys in class..." He said that last part with the disgust of someone trying not to wretch. "... then I swear it'll be the last time you fail me boy." Releasing my shirt, he didn't even watch as I fell backwards slamming my head into the wall, rattling the various picture frames.
"I... I'm sorry dad." I choked out. This time I do remember his expression, because he turned with a hatred in his eyes no son should ever see a parent direct towards them.
"I don't forgive you, and neither will the Lord if you don't get your shit together." The frames rattled once more as he slammed the door to his bedroom.
There was a pregnant pause, and an eerie silence that was only disturbed by the failure to contain my overwhelmed sobs, before my mother gingerly entered the room. In one hand she held a plate with the cobbler I had smelled earlier, and in the other a tissue that she used to wipe my eyes. However while doing so, she, like myself, refused to make eye contact.
"You know, he really does want what's best for you. The lord works in mysterious ways and so does your father... but you're not a failure. Failure isn't doing wrong by your faith, failure is when you stop believing." She stroked my hair and I looked up sourly, yet desperately.
"Belief? What is there to believe in? A God that would let his happen over and over again, just because I feel different, and I don't agree with his teachings?" I sobbed. She flinched, but spoke softly.
"You're young, Johnathan, barely a teen. You're going to make mistakes." Nervously she glanced at the door behind us before whispering lightly. "And you don't need to believe in God, you just need belief. In a God, in the world, or even in yourself. Believe in something, or there's nothing to live for." She kissed my forehead, handing me a spoon and the plate before retreating back into the kitchen, leaving me with my dessert, a heavy heart and a lot to think about.
Oh, my birth name was Johnathan, by the way.
"Life is so beautiful when you're able to look at it with an unfiltered, unobstructed eye. That's why photography is so incredible. To capture an image of what would otherwise be just a fleeting moment in time, and save it for all of prosperity." Lesley Adora sits on a wooden dock with his feet dangled over the side, the summer sun high overhead and blazing. Water laps at the sides of the dock and almost creeps up to Lesley's stark-white cargo shorts. The sun glistens off his rippling bare chest as well as his rosy sunglasses. Long strands of shimmering hair blow lazily over the lenses of The White Rose's shades, and he gingerly pushes them aside with his right hand, his left holding what appears to be multiple Polaroid style photos.
"But only the most special moments are worth capturing forever." Lesley holds up one of the Polaroids with a gentle smile.
"Logan Burgess. The Black Sheep, The Heart Breaker, or the Anti-Christ even? You've spoke in the past of being 'a world ending spirit', a prophet? My brother, it is evident to hopefully everyone that what you truly are is a soul who needs help. Who needs guidance. A soul who needs The Light. You've had a rough go since your debut and a presumably less-then-desired showing in the Ascension Championship contenders scramble, but I think everyone saw that there's something in you yearning to break free. In my opinion that's why you've found yourself blessed with this opportunity, because you weren't able to score a single elimination before meeting your fate at the hands of Daniel Horror. However I believe you're in this match for a reason Logan, I think this is a chance to work out all those misguided self-identity issues that have clearly been tormenting you so.
I wish the best for you, I truly do, and while this is not destined to be your night I'm glad you were given this opportunity. I hope you don't allow Mason Destruction to overshadow you, being his partner and all. I've heard many people saying that the he's the odds on favorite to walk out with the championship, even over the current champion, so as his partner that has to be intimidating. Especially considering how... hateful of a background Mason comes from. I mean, if he's willing to do everything he's done to his own body, what do you think he's willing to do to you? A man who, in his mind, is standing between him and a championship, even though they are supposed to be on the same side. I feel for you Logan, and I'm not trying to drive a wedge between you and Mason, I just want you to be careful, for I fear he will not have your best intentions in mind."
Adora pulls the picture to his lips, and gives it a soft kiss before returning it to his side. Lesley then holds up a similar photo of Mason Destruction.
"Oh Mason. This story... it should be about you my brother. Had the cards fallen any other way, you'd be the ideal person to take the championship away from the seemingly untouchable Kasey. But alas, despite what everyone seems to think, your story is not one of gold and triumph. It's not 'the underdog average-Joe who fought from the backyard to the grand stage'. Your story is much more... a tragedy.
At Disputed Territory you proved to the world, myself included, that you're the real deal. That there's a lot more to Mason Destruction than meets the eye. You and I dominated the scramble, but you came out on top. No excuses, you were the better man and you earned your championship opportunity. However, the tragic twist. You didn't get the match you wanted, nor arguably the match you earned. You were robbed of an opportunity that you fought for and placed in a match where you don't even have to be pinned to lose your title opportunity. THAT sums up your story. A story of 'almost' and 'maybe next time'. You're a tragic protagonist Mason, and unfortunately that means no happy ending for you.
The world sure is behind you though. Social media, the fans, even the members of Project Honor are behind you. The esteemed James Edgebrook even picked you to win in his column. But last week, you stole a moment that was meant for me, meant for The Light, and you infected it with your darkness. Come Undisputed... I take your moment this time... I take the Ascension Championship." Lesley lays a kiss on the photo of Mason as well, before releasing a longing sigh, sliding the sunglasses down the length of his nose to get a better look at the last picture.
"Mmm, my oh my, then we have my unlikely partner for Undisputed... The Wicked Little Machine herself. You know Little Miss Vex, it's strange seeing you here in this photo without those fiery locks of yours... but you look stunning nonetheless. Hmm, regardless. It's no secret Kasey Winterborn is by far the most successful and most popular Ascension Champion yet. Truth be told Kasey you're one of the most popular stars in all of Project Honor. You've certainly caught everyone's attention; certainly the Fallout roster, Redd, even the now duel-champion Tyrant can't stop gushing about you like a tween on Twitter. You're a very talented, yet very busy woman Kasey. Dare I say, too busy?" Lesley tenderly runs his thumb up and down the photo with a small chuckle.
"Yes, you've taken on everyone who's come for that championship. From Arik Holt, to Kagome Akaibara, even our fearless general manager Christian DeMarco was unable to dethrone you. However all good things must come to an end before any of us want them to. You've been a great champion, but between your outside endeavors and what's been going on recently on Fallout, I'm afraid my sister of The Light that your head just may not be in the game. A chink in your seemingly flawless armor.
You're in an undesirable situation Kasey. You not only have no champions advantage, but the exact opposite. Anyone in this match can take that title. The good news is Kasey, you'll still be leaving with a win at Undisputed. Bad news is it'll be without the Ascension Championship. And that kind of loss, a loss at the hands of your own carelessness and ego my sister, will be more painful than a scalpel driven into each thigh. I hope that your 'dreamy special night' with you-know-who was worth it, because things are finally going to start falling apart for our Fallout princess. Mark my words." As expected, Lesley raises the photo to his lips, this time giving a long, sensual kiss before holding all three at once.
"You know, I do listen to social media, though I'd never partake in such a toxic wasteland. I know I'm not very popular. Even "The Drip Report" took time to share their... unique brand of wisdom to put me down. But I've been put down before, and that is just further proof that the dark stain that is the vicious, violent, bully-fueled culture of humanity MUST be cleansed. And it will be. I know nobody believes it'll be me walking out with the Ascension Championship, and that'll make my moment even more beautiful. A moment of light triumphing over darkness for once in Fallout's miserable, desolate existence.
People think I failed last week? But tell me this: has a caterpillar failed before it's had time to develop into a butterfly? I lost last week yes, but at Undisputed I break from my cocoon and spread my beautiful wings. It's a transformation, not a failure. Through adversity I still believe in myself, in my cause, and in The Light. Therefore I can never fail, for failure... is a lack of belief. I see losing as an opportunity to flourish, not as a failure.
As should my opponents AND partner this week. If losing makes you stop believing in yourself... then brothers and sisters you can anyways believe in me. You can hold your head up high and leave not a technical winner, but a spiritual one. Then take my hands and follow me into The Light... as your new Ascension Champion.
Now that... will be a sight worth capturing forever."
End.
