Breakdown 3-3-22 #2
{{Wednesday, March 2
Seattle, WA
The Westin Hotel}}
When Marie told Spencer 'maybe it's worth the risk,' he wasn't sure what she meant was worth it – spending time with him, or taking things a step further. He soon realized though that she had meant the former. Nothing had changed about their relationship. Any other woman, Spencer would have given up on weeks ago, but not Marie. For the first time in his life he was content to wait until she was ready to move forward. He knew something was different about her as soon as he met her. Marie could be trusted, she was worth 'acting right' for, and Spencer was glad that he knew at least one person would be on his side when his revelation blew SCW apart.
Spencer traveled to shows with a small crew – himself, Amy, Simon Lyman, Jaina, and Marie. Any time he could, he took the seat farthest away from Amy and Simon. On arrival, the group typically split up grabbing cabs, Uber, or a rental to get to their hotel. They didn't always all stay at the same one, it all depended on the arrangements Amy (or her travel agent) was able to make. This week though, the whole group was in the same hotel, The Westin Seattle, located a few blocks away from the venue. They arrived early evening, plenty of time to grab dinner and be rested for Breakdown the next day. Amy, Marie, and Simon's rooms were on the same floor, while Spencer and Jaina's were one floor up. Marie was still having trouble with her neck, from the stinger she received at the hands of Tsunami weeks ago. It led to some weakness in her arms, so Spencer offered to take her bag to her room for her, after dropping off his own. As Marie wasn't competing, she only had a small backpack with a few changes of clothes. Spencer carried it over his shoulder as they went back down one floor to Marie's room. They went inside and Spencer set her bag down on the dresser for her.
“Thanks. It's not even that heavy, I just had some kind of spasm or something, my hand won't grip it.”
“Maybe you should go back to the doctor when we get back.”
“I'll call.” Marie flexed her hands. Spencer grabbed one.
“Here, squeeze.” Marie tried, but barely had any pressure. “Yeah, that's not good.”
“I said I'll call.”
“Okay. Are you ok in here for dinner?”
“Oh, you mean you're not joining me?” She grinned.
“I will if you want me to.”
“I'd like that.”
“Then I'll join you. I do have to go to my room and get settled though. Back in about an hour?”
“That's fine.”
Marie walked Spencer to the door, and stepped out a bit behind him, holding the door open for herself. “Should I order room service?”
“Sure. Something grilled with something green. No carbs before a show.” Spencer rubbed his stomach, smirking.
“Right, you have to watch your manly figure.”
“How else am I gonna keep these dozen abs?”
Marie giggled. “Dozen?”
“Yep. I counted. Want to check?” Spencer started to raise his shirt, but only did so about an inch, teasing.
“Maybe later.” She smirked. Spencer wagged a finger at her.
“I'm gonna hold you to that.” Marie giggled again. “Alright, see you soon.”
“Okay.”
Spencer took a quick look both ways down the hallway, making sure it was clear, then leaned in and gave Marie a quick kiss. She smiled then went inside her room. Spencer turned towards the elevator...
Apparently he hadn't been quick enough. Amy was behind him, her wheeled bag at her side and a glare on her face.
“Oh, hey Amy. I brought Marie's bag to her room for her. Heading up to mine right now, unless you needed me for something?”
“Don't play dumb with me. I saw that.” Amy pointed to Marie's door. “I thought you said you've never lied to me.”
“I haven't.”
“Oh, so you're telling me I didn't just see you and Marie joined at the lips?”
Spencer moved away from Marie's door and towards Amy, hoping that Marie wouldn't hear any of this. “You asked me if I slept with her, the answer is still no. Last I checked... kissing isn't fucking.”
“Spencer...”
“If you don't believe me, do you want to ask her? Let me get her.” Spencer took a step back towards Marie's door, his hand up as if to knock.
“That won't be necessary.”
He stopped, and backed up the step. “That's what I thought. Look, what you saw? It's something of a recent development.” Okay, that might be a small lie. It all depended on one's definition of 'recent.' “Also let me remind you that we're adults.”
“That you are. I do have to ask though, did nothing I said to you about staying focused get through to you?”
“Yes, it did. She keeps me focused.”
“Oh for fucks sake....” Amy scowled.
“Do me a favor, stifle your outrage for a minute and listen to me. Haven't you noticed I'm not going out after shows anymore, 'fucking around' like you call it? You seem to notice every damn thing else.”
“Actually... I have noticed that. I figured that you finally realized that perception is real and you were taking being a champion seriously.”
“No, I don't give a fuck about perception, you know that. It's because I'm taking her seriously.”
“Without getting her in bed?” Amy's words dripped in skepticism. Spencer found it slightly disturbing how Amy seemed to be preoccupied with what he did with his dick, but he also really wanted her to believe him. He'd given her good reason to be skeptical with the way be behaved himself on the road the first few months he was with SCW, and she felt responsible for Marie. But he was done with that behavior, and he hoped Amy saw that. It might make her less likely to disapprove if she believed he had sincere intentions.
“Yes. See, just because you can't help yourself from jumping the bones of whoever strikes your fancy, doesn't mean everyone else in the world thinks and acts that way.”
Amy stared for a second, then laughed. “That might be the most hypocritical thing I've ever heard you say.”
Spencer hadn't noticed that Simon had walked up behind him, likely on his way to his own room, until the man cleared his throat and spoke, stepping forward and between Spencer and Amy.
“Excuse me, I'm sorry but I just heard that statement, and I'm certain it's the most disrespectful thing I've ever heard you say!”
Spencer threw a glare at Simon, immediately pissed. “Do you always stick yourself into conversations that aren't your business? Stay out of this!”
“Anyone speaking in such a manner to Amy is indeed my business and I'm not going to stand for it. You owe her an apology.”
Amy knew that Spencer and Simon hadn't got along since Spencer's first day of training, and she didn't want this to escalate any further. “Simon, it's okay. Bickering is how Spencer and I communicate.”
“Oh, so you're telling me that he always speaks to you this way?”
“Not always, but we've definitely traded cheap shots. It's not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal, no one has the right to speak to you like that.” Simon turned back to Spencer. “I'll say it again, you owe her an apology.”
“If she's not bothered, why does it matter to you?” Spencer wondered if there was some history between Amy and Simon that he wasn't aware of, as Simon was being very protective. Maybe it was a fellow drunk thing. Simon stepped up, in front of Amy.
“Because I know more about her past than you do, and she has a habit of accepting disrespectful behavior because of it. I'm making sure that both of you understand this isn't acceptable.” Simon glanced back at Amy. She glanced down a moment, Simon was right. Her habit of letting things slide and not defending herself when she should was a leftover of her abusive marriage from 20 years prior. She didn't want Simon to make a big deal out of this, though. She put a hand on his arm.
“You didn't hear the whole conversation, it wasn't as bad as it sound-”
Simon turned to Amy, cutting her off. “No. You're just making excuses for him, and there is no excuse. He needs to apologize to you.” He turned back to Spencer. “And none of us are going anywhere until that happens.”
Spencer scoffed. “First of all, she's not offended, and forced apologies are meaningless anyway. But more importantly, you really need to stop talking to me like I'm a child. Only my mother could order me around and last I checked, you didn't raise me!”
“No, If I had, you'd have learned more respect!”
Spencer shook his head a bit, stepping back. "Now you're taking shots at my mom? I don't have time for this shit. My room is a floor up, peace out.” Spencer took a step to walk off, but Simon grabbed his arm, then stepped into his way. “Get out of my way.” Spencer had a little more volume and bass in his voice than before.
“Maybe I'm not making myself clear. I am serious. Apologize.” Simon raised his vouce to match Spencer's tone.
“I'm serious, too. It's not necessary. Now move!” Spencer glared, his voiced raised again. Simon crossed his arms, standing his ground.
“Simon... really...” Amy was growing concerned with the situation.
“Don't make me move you myself!”
“All you have to do is say-”
Spencer had enough. He shoved Simon with both hands, pushing him out of the way and towards the wall. Simon stumbled, and caught himself on the wall, barely keeping his feet. Spencer stormed off, not bothering to look back at his handiwork as he went down the hallway towards the elevator. Amy yelled at him.
“Spencer!”
Ignoring Amy, Spencer brushed past a man about his age who seemed to have just come off the elevator, and stepped inside. The man stared at Spencer in stunned silence as Spencer mashed the button for his floor. He watched as Amy helped Simon regain his balance while the doors were still open. Anyone else might have felt bad for shoving a stroke survivor to the point of nearly falling, but Spencer had warned the old man. The elevator doors closed, and Spencer leaned against the wall as it stared to rise, trying to calm himself down. He didn't want to be angry when he went back to Marie's room for dinner in an hour. She'd notice, and he didn't want to have to explain.
Hours later, after Spencer and Marie's dinner and unbeknownst to either of them, an article appeared on a wrestling news site, Ringside Dirt. The man Spencer brushed past at the elevator had seen the United States Champion shove SCW's commentator... and sent an email to his favorite dirt sheet website.
ON CAMERA
I've been waiting for this for a long time.
Ever since I first showed my face on SCW TV, Tsunami and his so-called father have done everything in their power to make my life miserable. They forced my debut back a few weeks. They've interfered in my matches, attacked and injured my friends. Tomorrow night's match isn't the one on on, me versus Tsunami that I've been calling on the big man to do, but it's close enough. At some point, I'm gonna be face to face with him, and then we'll see how mean and intimidating he really is.
My guess is? Not very.
See, here's the problem with Tsunami. We don't really know a damn thing about what he thinks, what he wants. Because his father Marin Howe does all the talking for him. I don't think I've ever heard Tsunami utter one word, unless you count grunting or growling while he's in the middle of his attacks. Howe likes to claim his son is special, he has his own way of communicating.. I think that's bullshit. I think... That Martin Howe is a controlling, manipulative, rotten sonofabitch. Everything about their whole dynamic screams to be child abuse turned into just plain abuse. He controls every aspect of the big man's life. Probably has ever since the guy was a kid and tried to make his own decision once... until Daddy said otherwise.
It really just makes me sick.
You see, I grew up without my father. He left my mom when she told him she was pregnant with me. Just up and walked out. Decided a baby sounded like too much responsibility and peaced out. My mom raised me and my baby brother almost all by herself. My brother's dad was around a while, and he tried his best, but his best wasn't very good, and she eventually left him. But... at least he tried. Here you Tsunami... or whatever his real name is, raised by his father. Taught everything that slimy little man decided he needed to know.
And yet... I still think I was better off. I mean, look at me. I'm smart, I'm talented, I came into this company a pure green rookie... and less than a year later I defeated a legend to become United States Champion... the second most prestigious championship in Supreme Championship Wrestling. All under the age of twenty-five. One might say I did it all without the influence of my father, but I'd say that's wrong.
Everything I've done is because of my father. Or rather, in spite of his absence. When I was teenager and I saw all the other boys in school getting into sports, with their father's supporting them, helping them practice, I decided that I wasn't gonna let the fact that I didn't have that father figure in my life to help me, stop me from doing everything those boys were doing. In fact... it drove me to be better. Don't get me wrong, my mom supported me through everything, and the man who was my step-father for a few years still tried his best. But it's not the same. Even as a kid I knew that. So, I pushed myself. I decided that no one was gonna be a better advocate for me, than me. Father? What father? I didn't need a father.
And I gotta say y'all, I think Tsunami would have been better off growing up like I did, considering the sorry sack of shit he was saddled with as a father. It seems to me like Martin Howe did more damage to the man by being around than he would have done if he had just walked away like a coward, like mine did. Maybe Tsunami could have made something better of himself, other than a glorified attack dog, forced into pretending to be in love with a young woman just to try to get into her head. Maybe he could have been a man who makes his own decisions, forges his own path, like I did... rather than one laid out before him by a sociopath not big or strong enough to hurt people on his own, so he forces his son to do it, living vicariously through the damage his son causes. It's sad if you really think about it.
Although my focus is on Tsunami and making him and Martin Howe regret deciding it was a good idea to pick on me, I can't overlook his partner tomorrow night, Konrad Raab. If Tsunami is a shell of a man being pushed into doing things he may not want to do by his father, Raab is the complete opposite. Here's a man who's embraced everything violent, and gets off – I hear literally – on making people bleed and tasting their blood.
First of all... that's fucking gross.
But more importantly, it's a sign of a man who was brought up in a different time, probably left on his own too much as a child, or potentially abused. It's acting out, just like a toddler. Raab wanted attention he didn't get it when he first came to SCW, so he let Minerva parade him around by a chain, and then when she left him high and dry, he decided to make an even bigger spectacle of himself by making it a goal to make every one of his opponents bleed.
Have I mentioned that's gross?
First of all... you ain't gonna make me bleed, hoss. You'll have to catch me first, and I'm literally half your age, so good luck with that.
Let's look on my side of the ring now. I'm teaming with Justin Davis. Much like Tsunami and Raab, Davis and me are polar opposites, too. I'm still a rookie, I haven't been in the business a year yet. Davis is a veteran, he's been in and out of here longer than almost anyone. But we do share a similarity, in that we're both out here doing things that people don't think we can do. Davis came back and shocked the world by keeping up with the current roster, when the internet and dirt sheets said he was too old and past his prime. Me? I'm walking around as a champion, when the internet and the dirt sheets said I was too young, I was too green, to even think I could not only hang with the best of the best in SCW, but beat them, too.
I don't think anyone expects me and Davis to win tomorrow night. Tsunami has ran over everyone he's faced, either chokeslammed them to hell, or walked away when he was done playing. And Raab? He's Underground Champion, beat the shit out of Lucas Knight to win it. Through blood and weapons and literally biting the man. Two men who barely know each other and have to fight harder than most to overcome expectations are facing two men who are known for brutality.
We aren't supposed to win this. We aren't expected to win. But here's the thing... both me and Justin Davis? We've defied everything we were expected to do, or I guess I should say not do. We were expected to fail... yet here we are, shining. I don't give a damn about other people's expectations, I only care about my own.
And me? I expect to win. I always do. Despite everything that other people have said would hold me back, keep me down, I expect to win. I expect to be better than anyone wants to give me credit for. When I talk about being epic, that's what I mean. Consistently breaking other people's expectations and living up to my own.
I've had to do that my whole life. It's gotten me this far, and there's no reason it won't take me even further... as far as I want to go.