Do you see what I see?

Routine Conversation

With the remote firmly in hand, Tony Gamble stared at the television screen across from him with more than just disappointment in his eyes. There was a hint of pain, mixed with a dash of anger that had concocted a cocktail that was a tad bit hard to swallow.

He had lost to Jason Snow.

The Permascar Superstar had walked into ReVival with a spring in his step, and had walked out empty handed. There was no title to drape over his shoulder, no undefeated record to bask in; putting to rest any doubt that he owned the Original Villain inside of the ring. Instead, he had fallen short, and Jason Snow had murdered another victim on his journey to regain a title he had never lost.

It would be easy to blame the loss on outside interference – complain to Troy about Hanlon's actions and demand a rematch – but that wasn't Tony's style. The Queen of the Bandits knew what happened, how he was robbed, but she had never truly been a fan of The Grin and he doubted that would ever change.

He wasn't a big fan of hers either, but she had given him a new life here in PRIME and he at least appreciated that. Being on the road again led him to San Antonio, where he found Victoria and Olivia. He had thought about thanking Lindsay for that, but didn't want to give her any more credit than he already had. Not to mention, she would hold that over his head for the rest of his career, and he doubted he would be able to stomach it.

So Manhunt would have to do.

He would rest up until Culture Shock, then do whatever it took to make Lindsay give him a shot at Ivan.

Ha. 

“You're watching that again?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder, as Frank Pastore walked behind the couch on his way toward the small kitchen of the hotel room.

“You know I've never been able to leave well enough alone,” Tony replied, then turned his attention back to the television as the footage started to play again. “This is my favorite part right here.”

Gamble and Snow are both laid out on the mat as Hayes Hanlon slid in and stood over the two of them for a moment, before he reached down and pulled Jason on top of Tony with a crooked smile on his face. That is where the footage gets paused, with Hanlon hunched over the two of them.

Obviously happy with what he was doing.

“You going to return the favor,” Frank poured a bit of soju in a glass, then downed it just as quickly.

“I haven't decided yet,” Tony shrugged his shoulders as he tossed the remote to his left. “I'm thinking about focusing on this Manhunt thing they're going to be doing at Culture Shock, maybe get a shot at the Universal title before Cancer loses the Five Star and sets his sights on it again.”

“Thought you and Hessian were going after the tag titles,” Frank set his glass back on the table after another drink. He twisted the top back onto the bottle, as Tony hopped off the sofa.

“Supposed to be,” Gamble replied, the uncertainty of the situation hidden by the smile permanently scarred on the left side of his face. He stood up and made his way over to the man he once mentored. “But I'm not really sure what's going on with the champs, so we'll see how it plays out. Either way, this Manhunt thing is happening on night two, so I can do both if it comes down to it.”

“You called me to keep an eye on you because you blacked out in the ring again…now you think you're up to wrestling two nights in a row.” Pastore allowed his statement to settle in, hoped Tony would realize how little sense it made. “Are you stupid?”

“Must be,” Tony chuckled. “Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.”

“Something's definitely wrong with you,” Frank cracked a smile while he poured a shot for The Grin. “Guess some things never change.”

“Shut up.” Tony downed the drink quickly, eyes narrow as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. “Speaking of shit that hasn't changed, why are you and Dom still in Japan?”

“Not really sure, to be honest,” Pastore shrugged his shoulders slightly. “We thought about going back to the States a few times after the last BANG! show, but the local shows here pay a bit more and there's not as much backstage bullshit.”

“There's always backstage bullshit,” Tony laughed out loud as he shook his head.

“That's why I said not as much,” he allowed the reply to sit there for a moment, then continued. “Not like we have anything to do in the States anyway.”

Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket, brow furrowed as he read his latest text. Annoyance took a nap in his gut when he realized he was scheduled for a match at ReVival Sixty Four.

“Why are you bringing up old shit, Frankie?”

It's not a tag title match.

“Like I said, some things never change.”

No, they don't.

-_-_-_-_-

Melancholy Drive

Olivia traced the tip of her finger along her thigh, the scars beneath her denim jeans a pleasant reminder of the sweet escape the momentary pain each cut has provided her these last few months. The thought alone curled up with a blanket at the end of her lips, a satisfying smile to conceal the loneliness that echoed within the walls of her mind.

The smile would soon fade, overcome with thoughts of what awaited her as the day progressed. A thousand butterflies flapped their wings in her stomach, as she thought about Eddie's hands against her skin – the warmth of his breath on her neck. She had survived the weekend without her mother noticing the bruises, grateful for the out of the ordinary cold front that had visited the Central Texas city.

Olivia didn't understand why she was happy about that, why she couldn't muster the courage to show her mother what he had done to her – break down and sob against her shoulder while she explained the abuse Eddie had put her through – mentally and physically…to put it modestly. He had convinced her that no one would believe her if she said anything, that it would be seen as retaliation for the way he talked about her in the halls. Like most victims placed in these situations, she had accepted his words as truth…because she feared the possibility of finding out for herself. Could she shoulder the burden of knowing he had been right?

She doubted she could, she doubted her self worth.

She pulled on the door handle as the Mid-size SUV came to a stop at the curb, another voyage toward a day filled with despair had come to an end. She shoved the door closed behind her, the loving words of her mother to have a good day and that she loved her cut short. If her mom loved her, she would know the pain that awaited her. She would rescue her from the inevitable misery that beckoned her forward with a wicked grin.

Olivia wanted to resist the call, but invisible hands pushed her toward the doors of the school. She passed by teachers and counselors that claimed to be there to listen if they were burdened or bullied, but there was nothing they could do because they did not understand the thoughts that had settled in and made themselves comfortable.

That's when she saw him at the end of the hall with a few of his friends, the smile on his face a mask he wore to conceal the monster that only revealed itself when they were alone. She wondered if they knew the darkness that occupied his heart, but she already knew the answer.

No, they don't. 

-_-_-_-_-

Ignorant Perspective

“I love you!”

Victoria hoped she had said it loud enough to hear through the door, that somehow it would find a way to penetrate the wall her daughter had built around her and remind her that she was not alone. Olivia had always been so happy, full of joy in a World that had left many lost and isolated from the ones they loved. Victoria prayed her child would not fall under its curse, that she could protect her from the evil that lurked around every corner.

She had seen the change as it happened. It was slow at first, then something happened and it was like Olivia had flipped to the back of the book and skimmed the cliff notes of sorrow. Gone was the smile that had brightened her mornings like the rising sun, replaced by dark clouds that warned of the coming storm. She hated it, and it hurt her heart to see a piece of her suffer through such distress.

Her hand toggled the shifter into gear as she lifted her foot off the brake, vision blurred by the tears that had settled into the corners of her eyes, as she watched Olivia make her way toward the front doors of her school. She wanted to follow her, clear a way through the masses, but instead she just drove away.

A few of the tears had stained her cheeks as they journeyed toward her chin, only to be wiped away by the back of her hand before they could complete their trek. She wanted to scream, to just let loose in a fit of rage and break something…or someone.

Victoria was at odds with herself on how to get through to Olivia and help her understand that she could open up and let her in, that she would support her with the struggles in her life no matter what they were.

Her mother had said to have patience, that eventually Olivia would do the same thing she had and open up on her own. Thing is, Victoria knew she had only allowed her mother to know what she wanted her to know, opening the door just enough for her to get a glimpse of what was really going on.

She didn't want that with Olivia, especially with the horror stories she had read on parenting message boards about all the different things children are exposed to nowadays. Candies or gummies laced with fentanyl, bullying on social media, just to name a few. What happened to the days where sneaking a beer from the fridge to share with your friends, or smoking weed with ten other people in a two door Blazer was considered being a rebel…times have changed, and being a parent has become harder than ever.

Her friend Dorothy had recommended prayer, to put her faith in Christ and take Olivia to church…to show her that there is a God that loves her unconditionally. She smiled and nodded, reluctantly. Truth is, when she grew up she felt the eyes of judgment upon her more than the welcome arms of the Church that she had heard so much about. She had never felt the hand of God work miracles in her life, unlike Dorothy who thanked her Lord for the new Mercedes she drove, and her husband being healed of testicular cancer. The cynic in Victoria figured it was due to the promotion Dorothy had received at work, and the health insurance that paid the doctors to do the surgery.

Still, she gave prayer a shot.

Every night she knelt down at the side of her bed and prayed her daughter would trust her enough to tell her what had her down. For weeks she had done this and nothing had changed, so how could she ask Olivia to go to church and put her faith in someone she herself wasn't sure she believed in.

Everyone had an opinion about how to become a better parent, on how she should raise and treat Olivia, but did they honestly know what they were talking about…

No, they don't. 

-_-_-_-_-

The Yellow Pages

“I wish I could say that I know who you are, Jackson.”

He had been through a war at ReVival Sixty Three.

“But I don't, and honestly I no longer care.”

He had been in the ring with the Original Villain, and survived to tell the tale.

“When I was notified of our match I was curious, so I posted on Jabber and you came running.”

Now here he stood, as if nothing had happened.

“And just as quickly as you were to post, I lost interest.”

Here in front of the camera, for all to see how Jason Snow failed to take him out.

“You replied, Jackson, and all I could see was someone desperate for attention.”

Tony Gamble, on the other hand, still had bruises on his face from having it slammed against the ring apron.

“Then you came at me with insults about my height, being ugly, and unintelligent.”

The Stool, had not even a scratch.

“I thought about doing the same, but I stopped and asked myself why.”

He stood tall at the end, while Tony lost yet another match.

“Your attempts at getting under my skin were falling flat, better suited for a back and forth with Fred Dick and I realized there was no reason for me to even bother. You took that kindness as a weakness, and proved something else to me.”

Why was he even given a shot at the Five Star title, he probably didn't have five wins.

“You know exactly who I am…”

That grin.

“But have no idea who you're dealing with.”

The Grin.

“Still, you are probably going to win this match. You have the advantage of me not giving enough of a damn to learn more about you, I didn't even go back and watch the match you had here.”

The Stool is convinced Tony is an idiot.

“It's pointless, Jackson, because even if U beat you it doesn't benefit me one bit. It would be as meaningful as beating Kennade Starr.”

Who?

“Just like you beating me would affect me as much as the loss against Harley Walker did.”

Who?

“Do you see them in any matches?”

No, you don't.