WHY AM I THE WAY I AM?

Tropical Turmoil

Night 1

After the show

I sat there and stared at the notification for a moment, a response to a message I had apparently posted. Yet it was not only a post that I did not make, but one that I doubt I would ever make. Compliments and acknowledgments were just something I avoided, especially when directed toward someone I considered an adversary.

Wait, what?

Had I really reached a point where I actually considered Ria an adversary, thought of her as someone that I would list among names like Brandon Youngblood, Chandler Tsonda, and Dusk?

I tried my best to shake the thought out of my mind, to not give her that much credit. We had only really had one match –  well, one that mattered – but she and Anna Daniels had been a few of the most vocal against me in JABBER since my arrival. It may have had something to do with the opportunity that I had cost them when I showed up at the Great American Nightmare, but neither was really in a position to walk out of the MGM Grand Garden Arena with the Intense title when I attacked Morty.

Then again, maybe it was just that she made herself an easy target with the way she always lacked positivity and considered herself a failure. I felt like that was something I needed to exploit and made sure to point out her inability to succeed every chance I could get. This post was nothing like that, but luckily, I have been such a prick the last few years that it seemed like she had brushed it off as sarcasm.

At least that is what I gathered from her reply, so I need to make sure I turn this around while I still can. Maybe if I point out her failed relationship with Sid, it will distract her from the compliment long enough for it to scroll off screen and be forgotten.

Yeah, that's what I'll do.

“Something funny?”

I glanced away from my screen for a moment to find the two most important women in my life focused on me and realized that I had chuckled out loud at what I had decided to type. It wasn't loud enough to catch the attention of any of the other people in the restaurant, a spot named Pinoquio they had chosen to have dinner at after night one of Tropical Turmoil because Olivia thought it was Disney themed.

“Someone called Ria a good wrestler, and said Jenny Colton was pretty on Jabber,” it pained me to see the color fade away from my daughter's cheeks and her eyes widen as I told Victoria what I was reading, but I continued nonetheless. “They also called me a butthead.”

“Finally, someone with some sense in that place.”

“Yeah,” the right side of my lips completed my smile. “probably the only one, too.”

Olivia looked away as her mother laughed, probably thinking to herself that I was furious with her. I wanted to walk around the table, grab her by the arms, pull her close to my chest, and let her know that I wasn't upset. I should have comforted her, let her know that she didn't have to worry about it, because I loved her more than I loved the business.

I should have done a lot of things to ease her guilt.

But I didn't.

Instead, I hit send and didn't bring it up again.

The waiter came and placed our plates on the table and told us to enjoy our food. It tasted great, but no matter how much tea I drank or prawn I swallowed…I still had a bitter taste in my mouth at the end of the night.

It's only been a few months, so I'm not too familiar with how to be a good father. One thing I know for sure, though…Is that I'm not doing it right.

=-=-=-=-=

The

Yellow

Pages

“I guess you lost another big match, huh?”

The grin known around the world.

“When I saw my name on the card and who was across it, I couldn't help but chuckle.”

Mr Two Books himself, but there aren't any books around.

“Troy has this funny way of scheduling me against you whenever you lose a big match, and while Clay Byrd may not be up there alongside names like Jiles or Farthington…apparently his name is known in our business.”

Tony Gamble shrugs his shoulders, but there is a glint in his eye as his trademark grin reaches out past his cheeks and tries to grab his ears.

“Just don't ask me HOW.”

Sitting on top of a stool, the Permascar Superstar continues.

“Byrd really isn't someone I've paid any attention to. I think he may have had a cup of coffee in PRIME during the Revolution era, but I really didn't waste my time on curtain jerkers back then. I was the greatest technical wrestler not to hold the Universal title at the time, so why would I?”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the star of the show is here.

“You were right there, nipping on my heels, trying to scratch and claw your way back to the top. Looking for another shot at being the Diamond of the sport, hoping everyone would look past the flaws and imperfections that made you pick up your ball and go home in the first place. That's all water under the bridge now, a closed door best left unopened because you're a changed man now.”

Strong enough to carry an ego that probably weighs more than three times the man himself.

“The Tower of Babble not only reached the pinnacle of PRIME by becoming Universal champion, but you pretty much became the face of this company in its ReVival. Our very own Lone Ranger riding in on your stallion, waving your white hat above your head to signal your arrival and let the villains know you were here to save the day.”

A chuckle passes through slightly parted lips.

“What a hero you have become.”

=-=-=-=-=

Tropical Turmoil

Night 2

During the Intense title match

Chocolate covered the top of the donut, but it was the cream inside that I looked forward to the most. There was something about taking that first bite into a Boston Cream donut that just felt so satisfying. Some would be happy with the simple fact they were able to walk out of catering with one of these heavenly treasures, considering Bobby Dean was in there serving himself a plate that most people in the dining industry would call a bus tub, but I knew the chase was nothing compared to the victory of finally having the chocolate and cream giving my tongue a warm hug before racing down my throat.

As I walked through the room that had been assigned to us Bandits, I heard the door close behind me with a click. I figured I had at least ten minutes before the Beautiful one would arrive, and I intended to savor each one of them by taking my time with the divine pastry.

“You're eGGcited about tonight, huh?”

I watched the donut flip into the air when I flinched, and time just seemed to slow down as I leaned forward with arms outstretched in a failed attempt to save the chocolate frosted pastry from its inevitable demise.

No success.

As soon as the chocolate side made contact with the concrete I knew that my evening was ruined, but it was the custard that shot out in several directions that just made my heart drop. I turned to look at the man that had just robbed me of my happiness, his Alfredo hair a constant reminder of the night I left my lunch in the ring. I swear, if I ever have a chance to get my hands on Youngblood again he's going to regret ever even knowing my name.

Lucky for him, we had a match not too long ago, so he is safe for at least a few months. Unless he keeps telling me to shut the hell up on Jabber, then I may need to have a face to face with Troy and have her book a match so I can break his damn fingers. Right now,  though, I have a donut to mourn over.

“I was,” I bowed my head and closed my eyes, as the thought of what could have been slowly faded away. “Now my life is just as empty as that donut on the floor.”

“Bit overdramatic, don't you think?”

I turned my attention away from the mess at my feet and over to the man with the T- Shades seated on the sofa to my right. My eyes narrowed, my brow furrowed, and the lips on the right side of my face twisted into a sneer. Now I knew how Joe felt when he never got his coffee, but my reason for disappointment had the word COOL tattooed across his stomach.

“Flamberge had a funeral for his damn car,” I bent down at the knees, grabbed the donut, and placed it back on the plate. “You can spare me a moment of silence for my donut.”

“Pretty sure you can run back to catering and grab another.”

“Bobby was still there when I left,” my shoulders slumped when I tossed the plate into the trash.

“Well, better to end up on the floor here than in the ring, am I right?”

HA!

I walked right into that one…practically lobbed it at him, and he knocked it out the park.

“I don't even have a match tonight,” was my reply as I walked over and took a seat next to the Coolympian. “I'm just here to show my support.”

“Go Team Coral.”

I could see him lift his hands and shake his fists in a ra ra motion, but there was something about his tone that didn't sit right with me.

“Nice to finally know which side of the fence you're sitting on.”

“What're you talking about,” I asked for clarity's sake. This had been a long time coming, and something I expected to be brought up the day we had the conversation about Snow. “Don't we all want Coral to win tonight?”

“So that's what you meant earlier?”

“What else would I be talking about,” a completely rhetorical question, one I really didn't want to hear the answer to. “We're all Team Bandit, right?”

“Funny you should say that,” a smile that could rival my own spread like a wildfire across his face. “I know the perfect way you can prove it to me.”

=-=-=-=-=

The

Yellow

Pages

“How hard do you have to fight to keep them from seeing your true face, Brandon?”

Stoic as always, the wooden one remained silent and allowed Tony his fifteen minutes of fame.

“I know people don't believe what we did back then has any merit on what is going on now, but I know you don't believe that. I know that, because I don't believe it. More importantly, it's what we didn't do back then that drives us today. It motivated you to change, to stop being the wall that blocked your path to the Universal title.”

He has always been the draw, Tony's words merely icing on the cupcake of bullshit he loved to shove down your throat.

“You finally got out of your own way, and look at you now. You’ve held the Universal title on more than one occasion, and are probably one Randallplex away from another if given the chance. Funny thing is, you have the wool pulled down so far over everyone's eyes, they don't see the cracks that have started to form on your mask.”

A beat passes.

“I see them, because I know who you really are and what can happen if you decide to rip that mask off and show your true colors. So keep fighting the good fight, while I sit here and accept the fact that I will never be you. I am who I am – who I have always been – because I don't need anyone to cheer my name. I don't need to be the popular guy in the back that Tom or Ria want to go grab drinks with after the show, or get invited to the barbecue at the Colton's…and I'm okay with that.”

A chuckle managed to escape slightly parted lips. A crooked smile that only a mother could love, bless her heart.

“I'm also fully aware that I am not the man I used to be, just fodder for Lindsay to throw to the wolves when they need to be fed…to be kept happy. It's why Jiles probably keeps me around as well, nothing like looking over after you've lost a match and being thankful you're not as bad as the guy sitting next to you. I don't expect you to understand, because you're never going to be in my position. Not Troy's golden boy…her diamond.”

=-=-=-=-=

Tropical Turmoil

Night 2

The Main Event

“Will you stop?”

I swatted Bobby's hand away for the third time in as many minutes, this time I caught him before he scraped a bit of cheese off my shirt. The chip he had in his hand sailed a few feet away when I made contact. I watched his eyes follow it as it shattered on the floor, and I swear a tear formed in the corners almost instantly.

“Sorry…” the word hadn't even finished passing through my lips when I felt another chip drag across my chest. Gone were the tears I noticed just moments ago.

“Seriously?” A crunch and a smile were my only reply as Bobby started to chew. Sometimes, I don't even know why I bother. I didn't even try to stop him, when he ran another chip through what was left of the golden melted goodness that Reed had thrown on me. I was still feeling the effects from the assault Farthington and Fontaine had unleashed on me after Cancer’s match, so it didn't help when I tried to get my hands on Young.

Hopefully Jiles can keep him in check.

Hopefully that is why Jiles is down there to begin with.

He looks like he's about as out of it as I am right now, maybe even more after the hell of a match he has just been through. We couldn't leave Coral out there alone though, not with Reed and Vickie out there with Hall. At least, I think that's why she's out there.

“Oh shit.”

The chip that fell out of Bobby's mouth was enough to tell me that he was as surprised as I was when Jiles delivered the Terminal Cancer, because both Hall and Avalon seemed to jerk their heads back when he did it.

Who did he hit?

Who did he try to hit?

Is it actually time for me to choose which side of the carton I'm going to sit in, because I don’t think there is any doubt in Bobby's mind where his allegiance lies.

=-=-=-=-=

The

Yellow

Pages

“And while you're never going to know what it's like to have everyone walking through the doors above you in the pecking order, I know what it feels like to be you. I know what it feels like to have an arena full of fans cheering for you, chanting your name as you defeat someone like me. I felt it first hand in my match against Paxton, and I have to say it felt pretty damn good.”

If the stool could shed a tear, it would.

“Exhilarating, even.”

It may have even played violin.

“The thing is, as good as it felt, it didn't feel natural. It felt like they only did it because I was the lesser of two evils, and the next time I stepped into the ring against Jared Sykes it was all but obvious how true that was. Those fans are never really going to cheer like that for me, not the way they do for you…the way they did for Jared. I could plant Cancer’s face into the mat and make it my mission to rid PRIME of the Glue boys and the Whoresmen, but the cheers would be manufactured. They really wouldn't be on my side, as much as they would be against who I'm facing.”

He runs his index finger along his scar.

“Which is why I don't bother, and never will. So keep wearing that damn mask if you want, hiding who you really are. I'm going to stay true to myself, and to hell with what they may think of me. I've been honest about who I am since the first day I stepped in the ring here in PRIME, so Troy can suspend my Jabber account, line up anyone she wants to try and silence me, but when it's all said and done…I'm going to be the last one laughing.”

Eyes would be rolling for sure, but alas it is but a stool. Until next time.

“See you in the ring soon, champ. Oh, and don't forget to bring your white hat. I bought a black one for just this occasion.”

=-=-=-=-=

Olivia's bedroom

July 3rd

“You did what?”

“I made the post about Ria being a good wrestler and Jenny being pretty,” Olivia wipes away a stray tear as it rolls down her cheek.

“Why would you do that, sweetie?” Victoria wraps her arms around her daughter and hugs her tight.

“He was being mean,” she replies between sobs. “Why does he always have to be so mean?”

“That's just who he is,” she tries her best to console her daughter. She knows Olivia must be feeling a tremendous amount of guilt about what she did, even if it was nothing too serious.

“But he's different with me,” Olivia lifts her head away from her mother's chest and looks up at her with tear filled eyes. “Why can't he be like that all the time?”

“Because he loves you, sweetie.” Victoria runs her hand along the top of her daughter's head, smoothing her hair down. “He enjoys being the man no one likes, and I really believe he doesn't know how to be anything else. He knows that you want him to change, but you posting on his Jabber account isn't going to help him do that. If anything, it made him want to be even more of a jerk to everybody.”

“He knows it was me, doesn't he?”

“I'm sure he does.”

“Why didn't he say anything then,” she buries her face in her mother's chest. “He looked really mad when he saw it, and he didn't say anything. He probably hates me so much right now.”

“He doesn't hate you,” Victoria tries her best to sound reassuring, because she knows that deep down there is nothing this little girl could do that would make Tony love her any less. “You are probably the only thing he will ever truly care about, and him not saying anything to you is proof of that.”

=-=-=-=-=

Outside Olivia's bedroom

July 3rd

I was leaning against the wall outside my daughter's bedroom, listening to her come clean to her mother, and much like at the restaurant when I realized what had happened…I did nothing. I stayed frozen against the wall, keeping my feelings to myself, and just let her think I was angry at her.

How could I ever be upset with her, with either of them?

Truth is, Victoria was wrong when she said Olivia was the only thing I will ever truly care about. I just don't know how to tell her how I feel. I don't want to run what we have right now, if she doesn't feel the same way that I do.

What if I'm as bad at being in a relationship, as I am at being a father. It's bad enough having to live with the fact that I have no clue what I'm doing with Olivia, but add to that that I have no clue where my career is headed…I don't think I could deal with finding out that I have no clue how to keep a woman happy. Is this how Jonathan-Christopher Hall has felt during his entire relationship with Vickie? If it is, that really sucks and if I was anyone else may even feel bad for him.

Another thing that sucks, is that I know what I should be doing right now, what I should have done at the restaurant, but instead of doing that I did what I should do with my career.

I walk away.