Post by Dreamkiller on Jul 13, 2021 18:49:54 GMT -5
Chapter 16.
The Prodigal Son.
4 Years Ago
I hate being talked into things.
I’ve always been independent. I always got looked at as the rebellious one; at least, out of my sisters. Amber was the protector, the oldest one who stood in front of myself and Tasmin. A fact that I couldn’t wrap my head around when I was a child. I thought she was just a gloryhound, someone jealous of her younger sisters, so she tried to hold us down and take all the attention. But, that wasn’t it at all. She was the righteous one, the one who saw what the world was and never backed down or let it destroy her, or her heart.
Tasmin on the other hand. She was the golden child. Innocent and untouched by the horrors of the world. The one Amber succeeded in protecting. While I saw it all. Felt it all. I let it take away my humanity. I let it make me numb to everyone and everything. Well, almost everyone and everything.
Family was my weakness.
Amber approached me. She knew what strings to pull on me. She knew how to make me fucking dance like a marionette. And I fucking hated it. She wanted me to come and see Jaxon, to spend time with him, and talk to him. As if he would be able to explain away his actions and justify why he left. And Matt was no help. At all. See, Matt Shields, my boyfriend at the time, was a self-centered egomaniacal prick. So, when I foolishly approached him, all I got was a shrug and an offer of violence. And even though I know, in my mind, that my brother deserved to be beaten — severely — as good as Matt believed he was, my brother was seven feet tall and three hundred pounds. Also, deep down, Matt Shields is a fucking pussy.
So, I went to Amber's home. A nice studio apartment in New York, about an hour and a half from where I lived. I walked in and went up the stairs, anger filling my heart more and more with each step. Even the ride up the elevator was infuriating. I knew I was not going to be able to hide it. I wasn’t going to be able to push it deep down inside and hold it in. I hated him. I hated the idea of him. The door opened, and it was a blur. The hatred blinded me, I went on auto pilot.
The usual niceties were exchanged between myself and Amber, her husband and Tasmin. Then I saw him.
Jaxon.
He had changed. The last time I saw my older brother, he was a tall, but skinny kid with shoulder length black hair, and piercing green eyes just like myself and Amber. But now, it was like a completely different person. Seven feet tall, with a muscular upper body and arms, long black hair that he had tied back and a beard. But still, with those piercing green eyes. And he, like myself and Amber, became addicted to tattoos. His arms were completely covered, a fact that filled me with a mild amusement.
His eyes lit up as he looked over at me, a small smile on his lips as he walked over. “Hey Little Kay.” I shook my head and instantly folded my arms over my chest. How dare he? It had been ten years, and he called me by the pet name he did back then, when we were kids. Like nothing had changed, like he didn’t walk out on me, Amber, Tasmin and our mother. I stayed silent and Jaxon knew it was going to be difficult.
I refused to make this easy on him.
I groaned, I rolled my eyes and thought of the meanest thing I could say. “I guess I owe Amber a twenty. I figured you wouldn’t turn up….”
I breezed past him, Jaxon looked down, defeated. I heard him mumble under his breath that he guessed he “deserved” that. As I walked into the kitchen though, I saw the look on Amber's face, and I could feel it coming. She looked around as Tasmin approached Jaxon, excited to show him her first tattoo. “Really?”
“What?” I snapped back at her. She shook her head and moved closer. Her voice was almost a whisper, but with an authority she thought I respected.
“You said you’d try. And just coming here, isn’t trying.” I groaned and tried to keep my emotions in check turning from my sister, her hand reaching out, snatching my wrist and pulling me back to face her. “He wants to be in our lives. He wants us to be a goddamn family. Now would you please, for me, for Tasmin, for Nova and Luna and for Mum, fucking TRY?” Her eyes were filled with tears, and my heart sank. I hated the feeling. I hated what she was putting me through. But for the first time, I hated myself even more.
I gave a small nod. I tapped her hand and turned away, back towards Jaxon as Tasmin came the other direction. She was smiling, happy to have our older brother back. “So….where have you been?”
Jaxon laughed under his breath, he turned and sat down on the end of the couch. “Well, first, I went to Wales….”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed, I shook my head again. But, I listened. I sat there for a good hour and a half and heard everything he had to say, his life, his losses, his victories. Even his reasons for leaving us. By the end of it, I wasn’t angry anymore. I pitied him. I had Amber and Tasmin; even if they weren’t perfect, I still had them.
Jaxon had nothing. Nobody. Since the moment he left all he had was himself. Alone.
The UnderDog.
“Are we done with the fun and games now?”
Kayla sneered and shook her head, quite obviously in a bad mood.
“Tag matches, triple threats, singles matches and having to deal with the same two chucklehead idiots over and over again. And to be perfectly honest with all of you, Fallout IX: Super Aggro Crag was not a good night for me. I went into it knowing I had to team with Jason Long, knowing I couldn’t trust him to hold up his end of the bargain, to do his half and actually bury his pride to follow my fucking lead. But I had to sit there and watch as Pixie, a woman who took my title, who stole it and rambled on about how I wasn’t a good champion, lost it in her first defence.”
“Pixie Sloane was a fake, a fraud and should never have been in the goddamn ring with me for the Noble Championship. I mean, I hated that thing — I was expected to fight by “the rules”, I had to uphold its values and principles. But, it was still a championship and as such it should have been respected. It should have been defended with pride.”
“But instead...well...she lost it. She quit, because she’s a fucking quitter, like I SAID SHE WOULD DO.”
“Then the championship instead went to Savannah. I had to watch a woman I cannot stand, take a title I tried to make matter, from another woman who “beat” me only to quit and fuck off. Then, after I had to watch that farce of a “title match”, I ended the night losing the goddamn tag team match due to Jason's ineptitude. What a fucking joke. What a complete shitstorm of stupidity that I now have to try and turn from chicken shit to chicken salad. A main event triple threat match, with two championships on the line, winner takes all.”
Kayla laughs to herself and slowly nods with a smile.
“That I can get behind. This is the kind of opportunity where I can right this wayward fucking ship. See, I have defended this fucking brand on this company from the moment I put pen to paper on a Project: Honor contract and got drafted to Fallout. A debut I had to wait to make, but the second I did, the landscape changed. I started taking out people who were not committed to the company or the brand. I started stamping my fucking authority on EVERYTHING and everyone. Destroying pitiful opponents Christian put in front of me, and I did it with a smile.”
“I became a champion. I became one of the most feared people on Fallout and if you weren’t scared of me and what I could do, then you are either ignorant, or stupid.”
“I still defended this place as stupid decisions were being made. Including this one.”
“See, while the match itself and the stakes are actually something important, it’s been seen. We had a triple threat match within the last month. One that was a glorified handicap match, and I don’t want to hear excuses. I don’t want to hear how Jason and Savannah went at it. It was two people in a relationship and one of them stood there while the other one pinned me and did nothing, NOTHING to stop it. So, seriously Savannah, how does it feel?”
Kayla pauses for a moment again, she lets the question hang in the air as she clears her throat and leans forward.
“How does it feel knowing that everyone looks at you like a fucking idiot?”
“You want to cuck Jason Long, then go ahead and do it. But you and I have had to do this song and dance time and time again, round and round we’ve gone since you came into this company. The first time I ever heard of you was you and that idiot living out your “personal life” on twitter then getting so angry and offended at me for bringing it up. Yet here you are now, having this “friendship” with Redd — and the worst part, the thing that really burns me, is that it seems to be working. Almost as if Redd is your good luck charm, or maybe he’s a genie in a bottle and you’re just rubbing him the right way.”
Kayla makes a jerk off motion and sneers.
“After all, you’re the NEW Noble Champion right? You have a win over me and you also beat the Prime Champion. You’re going into this match in a great position. You’re no longer the fucking underdog Savannah. You can’t play that card anymore. The sweet, bubbly, hard-working underdog who wants to overcome the odds. You have a psycho who has somehow given you superpowers despite the fact you still suck, you have a championship and a chance to take a second one. In a match you already won because you have that toolbox boyfriend of yours wrapped around your little finger.”
“You don’t like the things I’m saying Savannah?”
Kayla pauses, leans forward and gives the frame a sarcastic smile.
“Then ignore them. Just like you ignore the fact you have a kid.”
“Oh, wait, we’re not supposed to mention this right? After all, you went off on me the first time we were getting ready to get in the ring and said I shouldn’t bring up your relationship and that I was trash for bringing your kid into it. It’s too bad, Savannah, it really is. See, everything you have ever said is on tape, resting sweetly in Project: Honors Archives. Everything you have done is known and can be laughed at and scrutinised. Anything you have said on camera.”
“Something I care about, since your boyfriend doesn’t and somehow has a way to look into my past and know things he shouldn’t.”
“Your ride ends here. Because Savannah I am going to walk into that ring. In Australia, that trash bag prison colony, and at Guts, Gold and Glory I am going to kill your dreams...and take both titles...since right now...I’m the fucking underdog…”
Sibling Rivalry
“What the fuck am I doing?”
I said it out loud as I stood in the elevator heading up to the penthouse. And no perverts, not THAT penthouse. Except it wasn’t really a penthouse, just the whole floor. I am seeing a friend I told myself, rattling it around my mind. No one else was here, no one to hear me or to see me. So why did I feel the need to lie to myself? The elevator’s door ping sounded through the halls, the doors opened and I was out into the corridor, moving down and knocking on the door. It opened and there he was.
Finn Whelan.
“Hey.” Finn smirked at me with that boyish turn of his lips. He turned and motioned me inside, I heard voices. One I recognised and one I hated. Dickie Watson and Aiden Reynolds. Dickie was Finn’s younger brother; not by blood, but by another bond. Forged through having no one else and caring about one another. Finn picked on him, gave him shit, but God help anyone who fucked with his little brother. The smile I wore for a second, I quickly took it away and went back to my usual arrogant self.
Finn and Dickie reminded me of myself and Tasmin. I pick on her, I give her shit. But if anyone hurt her?
...God help them.
We had more in common, having other siblings who were overbearing and held us in their shadow. Who only cared about themselves. Tried to make themselves more important in the eyes of the world but forgetting what got them there. But Dickie was a cute kid; wavy hair, some tattoos, and a generally happy-go-lucky outlook on life. He was also friends with my sister, and they were very similar. Kind until they got stepped on too many times. He and Tasmin joked and laughed, so he got a pass. But Aiden Reynolds?
No…
He was a six-foot-tall muscular Australian. And that obviously meant that he was nothing more than a six pack, a chiseled body and a handsome face. In fact, most would find him attractive. ‘Til he opened his mouth. I heard he had a little blonde thing in that godawful facility they all trained at; if I were here, I’d have to blow out my eardrums just to be in her position.
I hated that they were here. I looked at Finn, who shrugged. Aiden looked over at me, and I heard his shitty, annoying accent ring out. “Oi, what the fuck is she doin he-” Dickie snapped around and looked at him.
Good boy Dickie, keep your dog on his fucking leash.
Aiden backed up. Dickie seemed to walk on eggshells as I looked around. There was an awful lot of white, and expensive looking furniture and gadgetry. That was to be expected -- after all, Finn had wiped his millionaire ex-wife out of all her money in a beautiful display of spite. “Awesome place, Finn, thanks for inviting me.” I turned and stared directly at Dickie as I said it — showing that I was, in fact, invited.
Finn laughed to himself, his hands moved down to the brace himself upwards on the kitchen island as I moved around. There was something about him, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Finn Whelan was tall, slender, tattooed with black hair, piercing eyes, cheekbones to fucking die for and a smirk that was equal parts adorable and evil as fuck. Don’t get it twisted: this wasn’t simple lust. I did find Finn attractive, clearly.
But it wasn’t about that.
On social media, in front of people, I was the usual Kayla. Callous, toxic, arrogant, bitchy. We would do things that would just piss my fiance off.
But in private, it was different. I was open, I was calm. And scariest of all. I was vulnerable.
Finn knew it. I could see it in his eyes when I would say something sincere, the first time he seemed confused. As confused as I was that I’d said it. “So.” I leaned forward and smiled. “Want to give me the tour? Maybe show me the bedroom?” Dickie dry heaved, Aiden’s jaw dropped. Finn just smiled and shook his head. He knew what I was trying to do.
“You don’t like the kitchen?” He laughed and looked at his younger brother. Dickie seemed to calm down as Aiden kept watching. I liked this game.
I groaned, my hands lightly dancing across the marble countertop. I bit my lower lip, pressing my upper arms across my chest to press the twins together in my low cut black top. ”I mean, I like it, but we have an audience.” The dry heave again, Aiden’s jaw hitting the floor again, complete with incoherent sputtering this time. This was too easy. “Do they like to watch?”
“NOPE! I’M OUT!” Dickie’s hands went in the air, turned on his heel and moved for the hallway to the entryway as Aiden followed.
“Aye, see ya mate!”
“Later, Finn.”
They moved to the door. I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Finn shook his head and folded his arms leaning back against the cabinets. “Having fun? Don’t you think the whole tit thing was a little over the top?” But still, he laughed.
“Me? Over the top? A little extra?” I grinned widely. “...never.”
The King
The sound of high heeled boots hitting a hardwood floor brings us into a room with a comfortable looking red velvet chair. Kayla Richards steps into the shot as she slowly sits down with a large, leather bound book. She clears her throat as we see the title, “The King of Cucks”, in golden cursive writing across the front. She smiles and starts in a calm, clear voice.
“I would like to read you all a story. It is a story of overused cliches and arrogant stupidity. A story about an immature moron who has lucked his way into a prime position of power through no actual effort of his own. A story of a king. That overused trope.”
She reaches over, picking up a pair of glasses, sliding them on and leaving them at the tip of her nose. Her hair is tied up in a high bun — the look of a librarian.
“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, one called Ireland — or, as we English call it, ‘The Land That God Created By Wiping the Gunk From Under His Foreskin and Swiping It Across the Edge of the UK…’”
“In this useless land, this pisshole of a country second only to Australia in terms of disgust and wastes of space, there was a young man. A man named Maverick the Boxhead. And young Maverick, well, he had many problems. Problems we will call social issues. Anger issues with what we also call small dick energy. Maverick was laughed at by most people in the village. People who would laugh and laugh and laugh at his arrogance, and banish him over and over again from most social platforms as he ran his mouth. But, one day, Maverick the Boxhead had a tremendous stroke of luck. You see, the Boxhead stumbled upon a golden era in his life. After losing to a wicked witch, he somehow became the king of the land….”
“And in this land, he had his queen. A sweet bubbly, if not a little special, princess from the candy coated savannahs of Bullshitland. He loved her. He gave her everything he had, handing it to her on a silver platter, acting like he had never been in a real relationship and exuding the kind of energy that would have you all believe he had never touched a titty that wasn’t a family member’s…”
“But, a dark cloud gathered over the land, their domain. A dark red cloud. Like misty blood, creeping across the kingdom.”
Kayla sits back and smirks.
“The poisonous mist corrupted the young queen, causing Boxhead to get angry, and curse the red mist while doing nothing about it. Because, as you all know, a man with such a large, box-shaped head, and unnaturally proportioned body, has no balls.”
“So, Maverick the Boxhead had to stand up to the influence his love had fallen under. But, the wicked witch who had gotten her revenge returned….and swept the land and kingdom of all the stupidity in front of her. And lo and behold, the kingdom rejoiced. For the Wicked Witch...had killed...the dream.”
She slowly shuts the book, placing it to the side and removing her glasses.
“And that story, Jason, makes about as much sense as everything else I have had to go through. From facing you and Savannah in a variety of matches and even having to team with you, to this fuckery of a match. This match should be Jason Long versus Kayla Richards Three. One-on-One for the Prime Championship. But instead, Savannah is being pushed down everyone's throats and being handed an opportunity to walk out with two championships. All the while, with people knowing that you will lay down for her.”
“Or...maybe bend over…I hear pegging is big in your country…”
Kayla crosses her legs, folding her hands over her knee.
“But, based off the past and what you are willing to do to “prove” your love for her, I already know you’re looking to screw me in this. Looking to hand her everything. Or, maybe you’re looking to just stop me from doing it. Maybe you’re too focused on Redd because he clearly wants to jump in Little Miss Candyland’s panties...and you being the inscure little fuck you are, is terrifed of that. I mean...what’s wrong, Jason? Afraid she’ll feel the touch of a real man and realise that the rest of us were right about you?”
She scoffs and purses her lips into a sardonic snicker.
“The girl is stupid, but even a goldfish stops bumping it’s head on the bowl sooner or later.”
“The thing is Jason, I don’t actually care about all of that. Your personal life, Savannah’s, the kid disappearing, your twitter bans, the fact you only put effort into anything you do when it’s “convenient”, or your amazing time-travelling stalker camera. All of it is just shit I bring up to get in your head, because it’s fucking funny.”
She stops for a moment, taking the hair tie out and letting her long black locks flow down.
“But what isn’t funny is that I have put all my time and effort into building myself and the Fallout brand up only to be derailed by people unworthy. Pixie was unworthy; she derailed my Noble Championship run, the one you were unworthy of beating me the first time. Savannah was unworthy of winning that triple threat match. All of these people leapfrog me and are pushed ahead of me when I should be the focus of Fallout; I should be the woman leading this brand and making sure those silly little fucks on Proving Ground don’t get the upper hand.”
“Under my leadership, that is what would happen. So, for the good of the brand, for the good of the company, I have to win. I have to walk into this match and make sure the mistakes of the past do not fucking happen again.”
“At the Rod Laver arena, at Guts, Gold and Glory, one of us will walk out as the first-ever two singles division Champion in Project: Honor, and I could walk out as a two-time Noble Champion and the Prime champion, bringing respect to those championships, eyes to the product name, and most importantly...end this bullshit fairytale...once and for all…”
