Post by Tara on Jun 14, 2021 12:43:30 GMT -5
June 08, 2021
Hartford, CT
“Please, you have to get them to reopen my case,” Tara said. She had her phone held in one hand while pouring herself a cup of coffee with her other.
“I’m sorry, Tara, but the courts have already decided that you are a danger to your son--” a man on the other end of the line said. Tara clenched her fist angrily, and pressed it against the counter to keep herself from throwing a punch.
“You’re my lawyer! You KNOW that the bastard lied to them about everything… I was never abusive, I was never an alcoholic, I was never using drugs! You know--” The frustration was evident by her tone. She couldn’t keep herself from punching her fist against the counter anymore as she recollected all the memories of the accusations her ex-husband made against her to steal custody of their child. She growled and grumbled under her breath for a few seconds before seeming to regain her composure, “--you know that I’m proving myself. I’m proving that I can provide-- I’m proving that I’m capable… there has to be something, anything, that you can do to get them to look at it again and just… let me see him.”
There was nothing but silence on the other end for several seconds. Only the breathing of the lawyer could be heard until he finally released an exhausted sigh, “I will do what I can…”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll call you back with any updates.”
“Please do.”
“Talk to you later, Tara.”
“Bye.” The phone clicked, and Tara pressed both of her hands against the counter and leaned against the counter for a moment. She took a deep breath of her own to regain control over herself, and took the coffee mug in hand and took a sip before heading back toward her living room where her carryon bag could be seen on her couch with clothes and gear set on top of it.
What more do I have to do? She thought to herself, while sitting down beside her gear. Why is he having to make everything so difficult for me…? I was the one that Edward knew growing up, and where the fuck was he? Fucking off, doing his own thing, and all because I took up the responsibilities of being the parent! I let him do that! I took the backseat, and let him thrive! Now… I have some catching up to do. I have something to prove. And because of him, I have this chip on my shoulder-- she set the cup between her legs, and reached back to massage her shoulder, where she felt a ball that had become too familiar to her. --I… will prove myself, she thought as her lips curved into a smile. I will be on top of the world. The ring, she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip: It’s mine.
Without a knock, Tara heard the front door swing open. The sound caused her to raise her head to see who graced her with their presence… as if it was much of a mystery, she looked up to see her eldest son closing the door behind him.
“Good morning, mother,” he said while walking over to her, and leaned down to kiss the top of his mother’s head.
“Good morning,” she said, bringing her legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch. She leaned back and raised her coffee, “Do you want coffee? The pot is fresh.” she said before taking a sip from her mug again. Without any hesitation, Sabin, the eighteen-year-old son who was still training to enter the business full-time, accepted. Tara could hear the sound of clinking mugs knowing Sabin was grabbing a mug for himself, and she looked toward the bar where she could see him pouring himself a cup.
He came back around the bar and let his eyes linger on his mother’s travel bag, seeing that she had not yet fully packed, “Nervous?”
Tara chuckled at the comment, “Why would I be nervous? I changed your diapers while traveling this world.”
“That was a long time ago. When was the last time you went to South America?” Sabin retorted, and took a sip from his own mug.
“It has been a while…”
“And some people have suggested that you’re getting… old?” Sabin said smugly.
“Boy, I will kick your ass!” she said and reached for one of her wristbands, and threw it at him. Sabin easily dodged. “I’m only thirty-six!” she insisted, “I’m still in my prime.” she said, adding a smile and a nod to her own satisfaction.
“You still have a long career ahead of you… no doubt,” Sabin said, but the smiles that were once there seemed to dismiss as he lost himself to a question that burned inside of him, “What are you going to do about getting Edward? I want to see my brother, too.”
“If anything happens--” Tara began, “You can act in my stead.”
“You don’t want me to go with you to Venezuela?” Sabin asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
“No--” Tara said in more of a command then she had intended, “--no. It’s better for you to stay here. Like I told you, I’ve been around this world several times. You’ll have your chance, but this is mine…” Tara scoffed at the next thought, a look of utter disgust, “And I can’t believe that some of these people believe that I was riding his coattails still. That’s more why it’s important that I do this on my own. To prove to them that I was the ‘power’ of the couple,” she hissed, “I can handle my own.”
The statement was followed by several seconds of silence between both of them. The only sound that intruded the silence was that of Tara slurping her coffee carefully because of how hot it was; her eyes lingered seemingly making her appear… lost… lost to her own world.
“I never said you couldn’t,” Sabin replied.
The word seemed to have brought Tara back to reality, but she had a puzzled look on her face. “Huh?” she asks him, having missed what he said.
“I said… that I never said you couldn’t handle yourself,” Sabin repeated, “I know you can.” He took a drink from his mug before setting it on the end-table, and standing up, “Let’s go ahead and finish getting you packed.”
Tara nods her head, “I’ll be stopping in Miami for a few days. I’m going to train with Seth for the week…”
“Tell him: no hard feelings. I hope he knows I couldn’t drop my match to him,” Sabin says, “We should get going, though. We have to get you to the airport.”
With a simple nod, Tara does stand up and resumes her packing… She wanted to make a name for herself. She wanted to be prepared. She wanted to impress the management of Project: Honor which meant that she had to be ready; it would be a few weeks until she would be able to return home all for the reason of wanting to be as prepared for her debut as she possibly could.
Project: Honor. A name that has not gone unnoticed by me since they opened their doors, and the place where I decided I would grace my presence for the first -- true -- time since I came out of retirement? Hibernation? Whatever I wanted to call it. I returned for the sole purpose of acquiring revenge, but that purpose, that goal, ignited the passion that once fueled my fire and now I had a new urge… a new desire… reacquiring my place at the top of the mountain, not just in a company, but in the industry.
I could hear them. I could hear the sound of the people cheering and chanting my name around the world. I couldn’t resist-- I had to smile, but I hid it behind a smirk. The members of Project: Honor may have not been around when my name resounded around the world. They would learn my name. They would know my name. The world will remember my name.
Instinctively, I ran my tongue across my lips… I felt the familiar presence of the camera being on me, and I felt my lips curl into a smirk while letting out a quick exhale before speaking to their cameras for the first time. Make it count. First impressions, and all.
“There is a trait that I have prided myself on throughout my years-- my decades-- in this industry… The trait is simple: perfection. The moment that the bell rings, I cease being a human. I become a machine. My mind, my body, my life-- it lives for one thing, and that is competing to the best of my ability. That is leaving nobody in the audience to believe that there is someone better out there. When the people are sitting in the stands, or watching from home, they know the moment that my music hits… they are going to witness magic. They are going to see the best that this industry has ever had to offer. Furthermore, my life, my mind, and my body will go through absolute carnage. Absolute… HELL… to ensure that I walk out with my arm raised.”
All of the images from my past battles, my past wars, flashed through my mind in seconds… It felt like a lifetime. I could remember the first time I hoisted a World Championship over my head. At the time, it was revolutionary. I remembered when I battled with a broken wrist, and went on to win. I felt my wrist twitch from that memory. A lingering injury that I learned to fight with. I remembered when I came out of retirement, and was doubted, and proved all the naysayers wrong by re-acquiring a World Championship, and I remember standing… bloodied… from head to toe, over my opponent to retain. The memories bring a smile to my face, and during those seconds, I closed my eyes to relish and savor each memory while I could, but I’m not a Cowboys fan. I don’t like to live in the past; I like to build my future. I like to build up to having my arm raised as the winner.
“At the end of the night, that is the ONLY THING that anybody is going to remember. Right? They are not going to remember how hard either one of you went out to fight, they are not going to remember how close either one of you came to winning… How close I came to winning… They are simply going to remember whose music is playing at the end of the match. They are simply going to remember who is standing with their arm raised.
Make no mistake, John;
Make no mistake, Daniel:
This match is exactly what it says it is… this match is a SHOWCASE. It doesn’t matter how many times any of us have circled the globe, or how long we’ve been in the business, we are showcasing our ability to a new audience. To the Project: Honor audience. This, as a showcase, means that all eyes are on us. All of the management, all of the roster, they are going to pay attention to every… little… detail… that we bring to the ring, because they want to know one thing. They want to know how big of a threat we really are to their pedestal.”
What can I do to turn their heads? What can I do to get their attention? There are some people that have been living under a rock for the past twenty years, and do not know my name, and there are others who merely… forgot my name. I smirked at the camera. I knew that they would be paying attention to me, but I would also be paying attention to them. I would be watching Elena DeDraca; I would be watching Pixie. My mind was already set that one day… I would wear the Legacy Championship.
“I have to speak my mind, and I do have to say… When I learned that my first match in Project: Honor was going to be a triple threat, I was not too thrilled. These are not my favorite matches. I cannot properly display my ability because I am going to have to worry about John Blade on one hand,” I held one hand out, “and Daniel Ackerman on the other,” I held my other one and began wavering them as if weighing them one way and the other. “As much as I do not like them--” I said, and snickered, thinking of my most recent multi-person match, “--I am quite prosperous at them. I know how to… balance… But I am not trying to dismiss the competition before we get into the ring.”
I shake my head to dismiss that thought that I knew would only hurt me. Thinking that the competition was beneath me… undoubtedly, I’ve been doing everything I could to prepare, and I could only assume they were doing the same.
Prepare…
Prepare…
Prepare.
June 12, 2021
Miami, FL
Both Tara and Seth sat on the edge of the ring with their wrestling gear on, both of them breathing heavily. Tara was unfastening the tape from her wrist. Seth broke the silence, “How is it that the older you get, the better you get?” he said with a chuckle.
Tara merely chuckled at the comment, “Are you trying to flatter me?”
Seth shook his head, “No, not at all,” he insisted, “I’m being serious. You got me into the business, and you know--” he hesitated, not wanting the next words to come out as an insult, but there was no other way to say it, “--when you were training me, it seemed like you were on your way out. You lost your fire. You lost your passion. And there are people that have said you are--”
Tara raised a finger to Seth, her eyes wide, and he could see the fire inside of her. “If you say it, I will kick your ass!” she warned him.
“Some people -- NOT ME -- have implied that you--” he looks at her finger still in his face, “--were getting old.” Upon that word escaping his mouth, she hit him on the shoulder relatively hard! He let out a small yelp, as if he were actually hurt, “SOME people, I said, not me!”
“I’m like a fine wine--” Tara argued.
“Yeah, yeah, you get better with age. But you can’t deny that you had lost your fire for a bit, but you suddenly came back… and you just haven’t lost a step.”
He was right. She thought to herself. She gave a shrug of her shoulders, “When you’re born to do something, you do it. Nothing stops you. Nothing is going to stop me.”
“Is there any update on your custody?” Seth asked.
“Still waiting…” Tara replied, and her voice trailed off.
“Listen, I know that you’ve been upset ever since you came out of retirement. You’ve been letting hatred fuel you, and fire you, but eventually… that hate is going to run out. I think you need to find something else to ignite that fire inside of you,” Seth said to her, his eyes looking for any sign of a response from Tara, “Especially with you going to a place where… you aren’t as familiar with the competition as you have been. You’re not a hateful person, Tara. You’re not spiteful. And I know how badly you want custody, or even just visitation with Edward, but let me just say: they’re never going to give it to you if they just see your hate. I think you need to show a different side. Let them in. Let them know the real you. You need to let the world see what I know is there. What Sabin knows is there. What do you say?”
Show what? The world has let me down several times, and I didn’t want to let anyone else in. I had my circle… and I liked my circle… Tara thought to herself, while biting her lip to search for the answer to say to Seth. She had the urge to just decline. “I--” she looked at him, and could see the worry on his face… she knew it was not going to be an easy step, but felt deep down that he was right. She could not hold the world responsible for what one man did, “--I will try.” she said, rather convincingly.
Despite being uncertain to her assurance, Seth knew that he had no choice but to accept the answer. He smiled, nodded, and said, “Good enough. Give people a chance.” He stands back up and gets back into the ring, “Let’s hit the mat again. If you want an early start to prove you’ll be the Legacy Champion there someday, you’re going to have to be in peak shape.”
Tara joined her former student inside the ring and the training resumed.
Focus.
“Preparation is the key to victory. Whoever steps into the ring prepared for anything, prepared for everything, is going to be the one to walk out as the winner. But that’s nothing new, right? That’s how it always is, right? Be prepared. Most of us prepare for that by learning everything that we possibly can about the people stepping into the ring with us. We learn about their history, their capabilities, their endurance, their strengths, their weaknesses; we learn… everything.”
Preparing… by learning everything. I scoffed at the thought as I recalled some of what I had learned.
“Let me start with Daniel Ackerman. The Captain,” an interesting name, “We have a somewhat-- similar-- history… to say the least, and both of us started our careers at the same point of our lives: sixteen. Sweet sixteen. We were both veterans before we could legally drink in the U.S. and now here we both are; at Project: Honor. Just looking to make a name for ourselves! To stand out amongst them! But let me tell you, darling, where our stories have been relatively similar… starting at a tremendously young age, I am over ten years your senior, so I have been doing this a lot longer. When you were a rookie, I had already become a legend, and… like a fine wine--” I said with a smile, recalling my conversation with Seth earlier in the week, “--I just keep getting better.” That thought caused me to smile, and I knew it was important to always adapt. To always learn. Change. Move forward with the times, get better; we were not destined to live in the past.
“But there’s no denying your ability… what I’ve seen out of you, I--” I licked my lips, “--I like what I see. There’s no doubt in my mind that you are going to go on, like me, to become one of the biggest stars in Project: Honor! There is no doubt in my mind that we are going to both rise through the ranks, and this… it’s not going to be the first time that we step into the ring. I wish that we could have had a one-on-one contest, Daniel, I really do because I think your ability and mine is exactly what the world needs to see. It is exactly what Project: Honor would need to see.
But alas… we have a wildcard. That wildcard is John Blade, and he just seems focused on… an impact? Creating an entrance? Making a scene? There were a few people that I heard murmuring your name when you signed with Project: Honor at the same time that I did, and it just makes me question: who are you? What have you accomplished? Should I be worried about you? Are you just going to get in the way, or do you have a legitimate chance at walking out with your arm raised?
You are what I have already called you. A wildcard. I couldn’t find too much of your material, but that’s fine.”
Preparation did involve learning about your opponents, but it also involved something else. Self-confidence. And that is where I excelled.
“So a wildcard, and someone who has legitimately impressed me--” I said with a smile, “--and while I do not count either one of you out, there’s one thing that I know for certain and that’s what I know I am able to do! I’ve gone out and been taken to my limits in the past, and I’m looking forward to finding those limits… and surpassing them. Know your opponents limits, and do not accept yours. Allow me to remind you that the moment that bell rings: I become a machine. The moment that bell rings: I become a monster. The moment that bell rings: I become the Goddess. Everything I touch-- everything I do-- will become a masterpiece. That ring--” I gestured forward, I could visualize the ring. I closed my eyes for a moment to let myself visualize it perfectly, and without actually touching it, I could feel the ropes gracing my back. I opened my eyes, “--It’s mine.”
Mine. I smiled every time I thought about it… the ring was-- is-- mine, and I could think of all the times that I’ve stepped into the ring. How I became someone else, something else, and I knew what mattered. Life was simple. Win.
“At Hell on Earth, Daniel Ackerman, John Blade: you enter my domain. You enter MY ring, and there is not one thing that I can’t do… there is not one thing I can’t swing to my advantage. I know that ring like,” I raised a hand to the camera, showing the back of my hand to it, “Like the back of my hand.” I clenched my hand into a fist, “The moment that the bell rings, nothing… else… matters…” I tried to ensure those words struck a chord that they would hear loud and clear, “My body, my health, my wellbeing, does not matter. The wellbeing of my opponents: they don’t matter. Nothing. Else. Matters. And I will win.
The Age of the Phoenix comes to Project: Honor at Hell on Earth. Count the days.”
June 16, 2021
Caracas, Venezuela
Tara had her bag slung over her shoulder, and was standing at the counter as she spoke with the receptionist, “Se supone que tengo una suite.” Tara had told the lady, and the lady tapped a few buttons on the keyboard while nodding her head.
“Sí, señora, pero su habitación no estará lista hasta dentro de un par de horas.” the receptionist replied.
Tara was visibly frustrated, but knew there was no point in arguing… At the same time Tara had seemed hopeless, and a man wearing sunglasses had lowered them to let his eyes linger on her for a moment, “Tara?” the voice called out. He stopped in his tracks, and had a smile on his face, “Back from the dead!”
Tara seemed puzzled, unfamiliar with the man, and she… wanted to just smile and nod and go about her day, but the words rang in her head: Give people a chance. So she returned the smile, “Umm, hello, do I-- do I know you?” she asked, still sporting a smile.
“Will Riley,” the man stepped forward and extended a hand. She shook his hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you! Are you here for the Project: Honor event? I heard you had signed with them! I’ve also recently signed.”
Tara nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m…” she chuckled, “It’s my debut.”
“That’s great! I’ve heard some of what’s going on… you know… word spreads… and I’m sorry that you’re going through what you are, but it’s going to get better. This is a step in the right direction, I think! What room are you in? Do you need to drop off your bag?”
“My room isn’t going to be ready for a couple hours, so I’ve got to sling this around, I guess.” she said with a gesture toward her bag hanging on her shoulder. It was good that she traveled light.
“Ah, that sucks! Well, I’m about to head out for a jog, and check out the local park. Wanna go for a jog?” Will invited her.
Give people a chance. The words rang back through her mind, and she could feel some relief, “That would be-- that would be great.”
“Perfect! We can share war stories!” he said with a chuckle, and offered to take her bag for her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, chivalry and all that. Her shoulder was rather tense, so she accepted the offer and the two shared in small chat while leaving the hotel.
End.
