Be Careful What You Wish For
I am really getting sick of this shit.
It's a never ending cycle of fuckery. I kick some ass, I piss someone off. They get in my face, they demand a match. I kick ass most of the match.... except the end when it counts.
I am better than this.
I would say ever since Under Attack and nearly winning the Elimination Chamber, but it's been before that, and it's not just me. It's Tommy, too. It probably goes back to Rise to Greatness and losing the Tag Titles to those bitches. Well, in Tommy's case he did pretty good for himself after that, kicking David Helms' ass, nearly becoming World Champion. Me though? I have no idea what's wrong with me. If this were kickboxing, I would have been removed from comps weeks ago, having fallen so far down the rankings that I didn't belong in the touney's anymore. Luckily for me this is wrestling, and as long as I keep showing up, they'll keep booking me. They have to, I have a contract. But at what point do I stop getting matches against high profile competitors and start being made to break in the noobs?
I am better than this!
I just don't know how to prove it. What is in my head fucking me up? I refuse to believe all these people are better than me. I'm sure they think they are... Aaron Blackbourne, Owen Cruze.... Peyton Rice. Pushing their morals and 'fight for what's right' and all this other holier-than-thou garbage. Sure, Owen changed his tune but he's still the same, thinking he knows better than everyone else. I'm sure that they all think they have the moral victory because they also have all the physical victories. But tell me... did any of that shit do Peyton any good as she screamed and cried for help when Minerva beat her career out of her? Has it done Owen or Aaron any favors in getting to the top of this company like they both have had their sights set on for what seems like forever?I don't fucking think so.
They're not better than me.
They may have bested me on a few occasions but they are not better than me!
Retribution is the last time I will be made to look like a fool. Retribution is the last time anyone will have any basis whatsoever to claim they were right just because they beat me. Retribution is the end of this bullshit.
THE END.
April 1
New Orleans
-----------------
After Breakdown went off the air, Tommy and I made our way through the back. Tommy was still holding his back, the after effects of the backbreaker Pat Evans gave him. I had no idea who the guy wsa, but Tommy seemed to. We were both pissed, though, and hunting down Mr. D. Tommy finally spotted him just about to walk into his office. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in that direction, yelling down the hall.
“Hey! We need to talk!”
We caught up with Mr. D at his door. He have Tommy a nod, he didn't seem at all surprised to see us.
“Oh, you're here. I was expecting this.”
“You were, huh? Then I guess you already know how fucked up it is, showing up here with these... enforcers, and sending them out to jump your business partner!”
“Lower your tone, Mr. Valentine, that is meant to be kept under wraps, remember?”
“Oh, so we're just supposed to take this targted attack as some kind of cover for your arrangement?”
“Perhaps you should have thought about consequences before you conspired to end the career of a bright young talent.”
I glared at him. “Perhaps you should have come back sooner and not let her walk away from the fight she started with me!”
“Hold on, we're losing track here... you sent these assholes out to attack me, Olek! How am I supposed to run the academy if you get me hurt?”
Mr. D cleared his throat a little, and looked around, I guess to make sure no one was around. There wasn't. “Let me clear something up for you. The two businesses involved here, SCW and Ante Up, are completely separate entities in my mind. You are free to run the dojo as you see fit, and you have done. Making hires, starting new classes, this partnership you've arranged with the at-risk youth. I haven't interfered at all, just as we agreed. In turn... I will run SCW as I see fit. I don't have business partners here, this is all mine. Anyone who gets in the way of how I want things done, here on my turf, will see the consequences.”
“Really? That's how you want to play this?”
“I told you, things around here are changing.”
Mr. D then walked through his office door and closed it.
“That motherfucker.”
Tommy shook his head. “Okay. I can play this game. He wants to use those guys to get at us? Keep everything separate? Fine. I better not get any blowback when we handle Hudson and Evans our way!”
We started down the hallway to our locker room. “He'd be a hypocrite if he fucked with the academy over something we did here. And he can't say he never said it, I was standing right there, I heard him.”
“Exactly.” We got to our locker room and walk in. “I suddenly feel like I need another shower. You in?”
I knew he didn't mean to play around; we'd both been the unfortunate victim of Derek Adonis' stomach exploding in our faces and had showered off once already.
“I could go for another scrub... but I need to talk to Minerva first. Meet you back at the hotel?”
“Alright.”
We kissed, and Tommy went to the showers, while I grabbed my bag, I didn't want to have to walk all the way back here after talking to Minerva. After what we did to Peyton Rice, Konrad Raab had seemed unsure what to do, now that his 'woman' was on camera as being the person who took her out. People had given him shit and we'd expected him to cave and leave Minerva alone... yet tonight he'd done the opposite. Came to see me and Tommy in our locker room, Minerva had told him to make sure we'd back him up in his match with David Helms. I was confused but played along. Tommy did too, any excuse to fuck up David some more. But I had questions.
It didn't take very long for me to find Minerva, she was the last woman left in the general women's locker room, the last woman leaving told me she was still in there. I walked in, wheeling my bag behind me.
“Hey doll.”
Minerva looked up, she had one foot on the bench and was tying her shoe. “Kandis.”
“I hate to come at you right after a show when you're getting ready to leave, but I had to catch you alone. I have questions.”
“I thought you might.” She stood up and crossed her arms.
“Okay, so I'm gonna be blunt. What the fuck is going on? Raab is really sticking by you after we took out Peyton?”
Minerva shrugged. “I don't get it either, I thought for sure he would run screaming. Maybe the old bastard is actually in love.”
I felt my face screw up in disgust. Then, something occurred to me. “Drake can't be happy about this. I know him.”
“He isn't. But I have to play this out all the way through, Drake knows that. We will see just how devoted Konrad really is, and that's what tonight was all about. I am going to bring him down as low as I possibly can before I kick him to the gutter. He'll be ruined, and me? No one will dare fuck with me.”
I smiled, I liked the sound of that, but another question came to mind, and my smile faded.
“So, does this mean that me and Tommy are gonna have to play nice with the old man?”
“I would appreciate it if you did. You do owe me a favor for taking Peyton out for you.”
“Shut up, you were gonna do that anyway, if I didn't get to her first.”
Minerva smirked, with a small shrug. “Yes, but that doesn't mean you didn't benefit from it.”
There was no point in debating, we were friends and she had a point. “Fine. We'll play along... for now. But again, what about Drake? He isn't on this roster, he doesn't have to play along with anything if he doesn't want to.”
“Don't worry about him, I will take care of that. If I need your assistance in that area... I will ask.” Minerva then looked at me oddly, and plucked at my hair. “I think you missed a chunk.” She dusted her fingers off, wiping her hand on her ass.
“Ugh... fucks sake. I do need another shower... I'll see you later.”
Minerva made a face. “Hot water. Very hot. See you later.”
I grabbed my bag and left, to get back to the hotel room. I wanted a shower that wasn't in the locker rooms, and Tommy would be waiting for me. When I got there, I was in the shower with the water as hot as I could stand it, practically scrubbing my skin off, and running everything through my head that had happened tonight. Mr. D has attack dogs and they're trained on us. Chris Cannon wants to kick my ass because of my role in Peyton's demise. So many enemies, so little time.
April 7
Edmonton
--------------
A few days prior to Breakdown this week, Konrad had asked to meet up with me to talk. I had zero interest in talking to the old man, but I'd promised Minerva I would play nice. The fact that Raab mentioned he wanted to apologize meant I couldn't really refuse. All of this played out over Twitter, as Raab didn't have my number to text me and apparently he didn't believe in DMs. Point being... Drake saw all of this go down. He text me, asking me to tell him what Raab said after I met with him. He'd be in Edmonton for the show, and we could meet after I saw Raab. Of course I agreed, anything for my good friend, right? I had been trying to get Tommy to trust Drake, so I told him what I was going to do. Tommy doesn't really care for this involvement with Raab either, he'd said some not-so-nice things about me and we all know how Tommy hates that. I was surprised when Tommy didn't seem upset at all that I'd agreed to meet with Drake and tell him what happened. He'd told me he would try to be fair though, so it seems that's what he was doing.
I met with Raab, he gave me some song and dance about only having said mean things to me because of his need to defend Minerva. Didn't make any sense to me, seeing as how me and Minerva are friends, there was no need to defend her from me, but whatever I played along. I deserve a fucking Oscar for the performance I gave that old fool. Afterwards, I left the coffee shop Raab and I spoke at, walked about two blocks down the street to a diner where Drake was waiting for me. I sat down at his table, he'd already ordered us both a beer. I had a big gulp of mine.
“I see you survived your meeting with Raab.”
“Barely.”
“That bad?”
I scoffed over my beer. “Pretty bad.”
“I'm listening.”
“Well, the main thing he wanted was to apologize. He knew he'd said some shitty things to me and about me. He claimed he was so rude because he loves Minerva so much and got overly defensive.”
I watched Drake close his eyes, trying to keep calm. I knew this whole situation was irritating him but this was anger. He took a deep breath then finally opened his eyes to look at me again.
“Continue.”
I told him the rest of the conversation, some foolishness about how Raab thought I was trying to get Minerva to cheat on him.... if only he knew she didn't need me for that. I also explained how I'd told him I accepted his apology and that I'd be okay with working together if we needed to.
“You are a good friend, not only to me for telling me this, but to Minerva for playing along with this farce to facilitate her plans.”
“I figure it'll be worth it in the long run.”
“I certainly hope so.” Drake had some of his beer. I'd seem him drink before, but it was still weird to me. “I will admit to you, watching Konrad slobber over Minerva like a puppy irritates me to no end. I do keep myself busy, I don't let the anger consume me. There are times I watch Breakdown, I see social media, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from taking matters into my own hands.”
“I knew this had to be pissing you off like fuck. I asked Minerva about it, she said she would handle it.”
“We've spoken. I understand what she's trying to do. That doesn't make it any easier to sit back in the shadows and watch.”
“You've always been very good at showing restraint... I'd know.” Drake smirked, he knew exactly what I meant. “But everyone has their limits, even you. Eventually it becomes too much and even the strongest will cracks.”
“That it does. I'm holding out for now. But I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to keep to the shadows.”
“We've known each other a long time. I know that you you'll know when and if the time is right for you to get involved. Minerva might seem erratic but I do believe she knows what she's doing.”
“You are right, I'll know.” We both have more beer. This conversation so far hasn't been what I expected, and then Drake turned it even further from my expectations. “What does Thomas think about all of this?”
“Um, well... he's not the biggest fan of Raab either, he thinks he's disrespected me too much. I don't disagree, but I'm playing Minerva's game. I've asked him to play along with me, he agreed. But he doesn't like it.”
“Imagine that, the day has come where Thomas and I are on the same page. We both agree that no one who disrespects you should be shown mercy.”
“He definitely agrees with that. I could tell you a few stories.” I thought back to the one drunk kid who walked away with a bloody and broken nose after Tommy headbutted him for calling me a whore.
“I am sure you could. Does he know you are meeting with me today?”
“Yeah. I asked him to come but he didn't want to.”
“Why did you make that offer?”
“I thought it would be a good way to see that he can trust you, if he heard you speak for himself.”
“Yet he didn't feel the need to accompany you. Maybe he trusts you, therefore he trusts me, at least a small bit?”
“Maybe. It would be nice. I would like my two favorite men to get along.”
“For my part, there is no issue. I've seen that he treats you well.”
“Very well.”
“It would be amusing if Thomas were to lose his patience with this situation before I do and whoop Raab's ass for his offenses.” Drake smirked a bit.
“Oh that would be fucking amazing. But... we all agreed to Minerva's plans so we should stick to that. I used to be impulsive like that, get mad and do something about it immediately. But a good friend taught me that patience is a virtue...” I grinned. Drake nodded, acknowledging he understood I meant him. “And if we have patience and let this play out the way Minerva wants, the reward will be worth it.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Fucking right I do. Think about it... not only the humiliation Raab will suffer for allowing himself to be played, but the thanks you will get from Minerva for playing along while she did what she had to do.”
Drake sat silent for a moment, then smirked. “You make a good point.”
“I usually do. Just keep that in mind. If there comes a time when things go too far, you'll know it and act accordingly. In the meantime though... sit tight. She knows what she's doing, and so do I.”
“I will do my best to trust that.”
“And listen, if you need anything... and I do mean anything... call me.” I gave him a pointed look. The slight rise of his brows told me he understood exactly what I meant.
“Noted.”
I grinned as I finished my beer. “Good. I should get going. Meeting Tommy at a nearby gym to get in one more workout before my match tomorrow. Cannon needs a lesson.”
“Kick his ass.”
“I'll do my best. Thanks for the beer.”
“Anytime.”
I got up and left, letting my hand slide over Drake's shoulder as I passed by. Just a reassurance from one friend to another.
April 8
Edmonton
--------------
When Mr. D said he was going to do things how he saw fit, he wasn't fucking around. The week after, those assholes Hudson and Evans came after us again, fucking up my match with Chris Cannon. I guess they didn't take too kindly to the fact that I brought Tommy, Minerva, and Raab with me to the ring. But after the week before, can you blame me? As the match went on, Cannon's little friends wandered out.... Helms, Majors, and of course the 'shooters,' Mr' D's puppets, Hudson and Evans. Everything went to shit and Evans ended up injuring Tommy's ankle. At first we thought it was just tweaked or something, but further examination revealed a sprain. Tommy... was not pleased.
After we got back to our hotel room, with Tommy's ankle wrapped in a bandage, he sat on the edge of the bed while I pulled beer out of the mini fridge.
“Pretty sure I shouldn't have any of that with these meds they gave me.”
“Oh... right... well, do you mind if-”
“No, go ahead. You'll do what you want anyway.”
I turned to face him, my hand on the top of my twist off top bottle and gave him a frown.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
I twisted the top off and had a gulp of the beer before answering. “Oh uh-uh. We don't do that. What did you mean?”
“Tommy sighed. “This!” He pointed to his foot. “You and Minerva plotted this whole thing to get to Peyton, she did the job, now everyone is coming for both of you. I warned you this could get ugly.”
“I know you did, and we were prepared for it. We didn't expect Mr. D to come banging through the doors and start throwing his dick around!”
“Didn't you hear him earlier? Your hit job is one of the things that dragged him out of retirement. He's got backup and now those motherfuckers trying to avenge Peyton have dragged me into this mess the two of you created, and I'm the one with a fucked up foot!” Tommy threw down the one crutch they'd given him, and it clattered across the floor, landing at my feet.
“Don't you think I know that? I fucking hate that I'm basically responsible for this. I asked you to trust me and Minerva and now these fuckers D dragged in took you out. I'm sorry, okay? How were we supposed to know he was gonna come back and put out his own hit?” I sat on the bed next to him, still frowning.
“I don't know.... all I know is this wasn't even my issue, I backed you up cause you asked me to, and.... fuck it.” Tommy reaches his hand towards my beer, motioning that he wanted it. I gave it to him with no hesitation. He drank a good bit before handing to back to me. “I don't want to be mad at you. You had no way of knowing what Olek was gonna do. This whole thing is just fucked up. You playing along with Minerva's bullshit with Raab... the whole Peyton thing. When is this shit gonna end, huh?”
“I don't know. We thought we had it under control when it was just Cannon and maybe Daveyboy we had to deal with. Then Majors gets involved for who the fuck knows why, and now we have Hudson and Evans coming after us.” I sighed, and handed the beer back to Tommy. I didn't want it anymore. “I'm sorry I got you into this.”
Tommy had some more beer, then sighed. He gave me a grin. “Yeah, well... I got you mixed up with my bullshit with David, so maybe we're even.”
“Um, pretty sure that bullshit started because of me.”
“Oh... yeah. It did. Why do I bother with you, again?” He smirked.
“No one rides your cock better?”
“That must be it.”
We laughed. “I really am sorry. Maybe we should have figured that this wouldn't be as cut and dried as we thought.”
“Nah, don't do that to yourself. I'm not really mad at you, just.... everything. Sorry I yelled at you. I hate being hurt. Now I can't help you finish what you started.”
“Don't worry about that. We'll handle it. Now that we know what exactly we're dealing with, we can adjust. I really hate to say this but.... we have Raab, too. He'll do literally anything Minerva asks him to, and he seemed to be tripping over himself trying to make things up to me, so he'll want to help us get them back for hurting you.”
Tommy made a face. “You really think you can count on the old man to do something worthwhile?”
“If he's gonna be that devoted, we may as well use it to our advantage, right?”
“I guess so. I still don't like it. I assume your friend doesn't either?” Tommy was referring to Drake, he knew I'd seen him yesterday to discuss the Raab issue.
“Not at all. Imagine me telling him to be patient.”
“That's hard to imagine.”
“He will, though. As much as this whole thing annoys everyone, the endgame will be worth it.”
“For who? All of you, or just Minerva?”
“Raab has pissed us all off. Including you. So, all of us. You can't tell me you won't enjoy seeing him humiliated.”
Tommy grinned. “That would be amusing.”
“Then... trust her. Trust us. And as for this?” I rubbed my hand on the knee of Tommy's hurt leg. “They'll get what the deserve for this. I promise you that.”
“You promising to do damage on my behalf? That's pretty hot.”
I smirked. “Is it?”
He finished the beer, and tossed the bottle on the floor. I'd pick it up later. “Very. Tell me, what exactly are you gonna do?”
“Well... first, I'm gonna dig out that piece of chain I have...” I shifted my position to sit more sideways, to face him.
“Yeah?” He slid a hand around my waist.
“Then I'm gonna grab the first one of those motherfuckers I can get my hands on... maybe Hudson, maybe Evans, maybe David... and introduce that chain to their throat.”
“Keep going....” His hand then slid up my side and around my back.
“There will be chain link marks left in their skin by the time I'm done.”
He slid his hand up further, to run up the side of my throat. “Mhmm...”
“And after the lucky guy is taken out, I'm gonna meet you in whatever room we've rented, and remind you why you put up with my shit.” I smirked.
“Why not remind me now? I mean, you do kinda owe me...” He wiggled his hurt foot.
“You're right, I do.” I gave him another smirk, then pushed him back on the bed. I got up and reached for the button on his jeans. “Just leave everything to me.” He watched me as I pulled his jeans off, going carefully over the wrapped ankle. I waited a moment as he pushed himself up further on the bed. As he did, I pulled my bottoms off. As soon as he was settled, I climbed on, straddled. “Now.... why were you mad at me, again?”
“Was I?” Another smirk. “I'll only be mad if you get up.”
I smirked back as I wiggled my ass just right, and everything about earlier in the night was forgotten, at least until dawn.
ON CAMERA
Bet you didn't think the old man had it in him, did you? I'm talking about Konrad of course. Took that pipe and worked it like a pro, crushing Hudson's throat. Watching that puppet sputtering up blood was a beautiful sight, don't you think? Mr. D thought he got one over on us, sending these so-called 'shooters' out to clean up, try to take us out. They put Tommy out for a bit, but if he thought we were going to just take that and back off, then he really should pay more attention to the company he runs! Especially Tommy, he really should know better, they've known each other a long time.
Did you really think we were going to learn some kind of lesson and back off? Come on, D, I really shouldn't have to tell you that this doesn't work like that. You think you're taking care of something that's been neglected, you think your daughter let us run roughshod around here and you're cleaning up her mess... but let me tell you how it really is, doll.
This is your mess.
You're the one who stepped away from running SCW, left in the hands of one incompetent daughter, only to be turned over to the other one, who honestly wasn't much better. Certain people were given everything on a silver platter while the rest of us had to scrap and claw and sometimes steal our way to what we deserved. As long as the chosen ones followed the company line, they were golden. Literally. But put one toe over the line and, well... fuck you. You had your chance and you blew it, back of the line. Get thrown scraps and bullshit filler matches.
Funny how when you came back D, you said something about making sure that things had been overlooked would be taken care of. Yet you then showed yourself to be nothing but a hypocrite when you brought in Hudson and Evans, and sicced them on myself and Tommy, doing the exact opposite of what you said! We've been overlooked and underestimated all fucking year! What, we had some bad luck in a tag tournament and suddenly we're not worth shit anymore? So you send these motherfuckers to knock us down, hold us down, because you didn't like how Minerva and I did what we had to do to prove a point to Peyton Rice, that you don't start fights you can't finish?
I'm not a tease, D. I finish everything that I start.
And come Sunday night, it's gonna be your lackeys that will suffer for the position you've put them in. As much as I love a good street fight... as much as I can't wait to take this piece of chain I saved from the Elimination Chamber and wrap it around Pat Evans' throat for what he did to Tommy.... I have to tell you bossman that this match doesn't make any fucking sense. First we had Chris Cannon trying to kick my ass because of Peyton, then David Helms threw in, he dragged Jordan Majors along for.... reasons? But Chris is busy trying to prove something with Asher Hayes, and David feels the need to fight Owen Cruze again for some stupid reason, maybe his fucked up sense of morality won't let him leave things the way their last match finished... so I guess to both of those so-called heros, other things are more important than getting justice for Poor Little Pey-Pey. Imagine that...
So, instead we have Helms Lite in Lucas, taking his spot for no real reason other than jumping in at the last minute. And we have Jordan, who again... was dragged into this by David, far as I can tell she and Peyton were teammates a year ago and after that... rivals. Why should she give a fuck about this at all, other than the fact David asked her to? I mean, I hear she's doing training at his new gym now... how exactly does this work? Does David say jump and Jordan asks how high? I seem to remember her making a huge deal about choosing herself and making her own way.... yet it seems all she did was trade one group for another. Models for Morality. And she still can't seem to get it right. Shame, cause the woman has skills, but she keeps letting others lead her by the nose and she trips over her own feet.
And finally... we have Pat Evans. Now this motherfucker being in this match is the only one that makes any sense at all. This guy here is one of the goons, puppets, whatever, that D brought in to jump me ad Tommy. He is the reason Tommy can't fight with us! But you see what we did, don't you?
You took out one of ours, so we took out one of yours. You want to play tit for tat, we can keep going until everyone is sidelined and the only person you will be able to blame for that, D... is yourself.
I've heard Pat is some kind of legend or something, from a company I barely paid any attention to back when I was just a fan, but I don't really give a fuck about his past. I don't care what accolades he has to his name, I don't care who he's beat or any of that shit.
All I care about is, he came in here, hurt the man I love, and that's all I need to know. Pat... this piece of chain I kept as a reminder to not allow myself to push my anger aside, as a literal piece of one of my failures so that I push myself to not be a pushover anymore? It has your name on it. And you will be introduced just as soon as I can get my hands on you and wrap it around your legendary throat.
Minerva, Raab, and I are not fucking around. You should have known that when you saw what Minerva did to Peyton. When I watched that video and laughed, because that cowardly bitch fucking deserved it. The three of you don't know what you're messing with. But y'all want to fuck around?
You're gonna find out.