Post by DJS on Jan 13, 2015 20:18:49 GMT -5
Every story begins with a loss, no matter how you spin it. Because what's the point if you've nothing to fight for? What's the point of climbing a mountain if you've already had the feeling of being up there?
So yeah, ours started with a loss, indeed. But here's my dilemma. I don't even know why. One day, out of the blue, my husband decided to make a return to somewhere we said we were through with. We were “over” the WFWF. And I, being the good little wife and manager I am, decided to do what Diamond Jack Sabbath expects of me- humour him.
My name is Amy Taylor and I don't know how we got here.
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The view's great from up here.
The wind is blowing and I'm repping here in my bubble away from the lesser, crapty, smelly people on the lower levels of society. It's pretty damn good to be me at the mo.
People said I 'lost' my first match back. Now, I've been at this a while. This whole 'life' business and that. In that time I've learned a very valuable lesson in that people, as a general rule, are absolutely bloody stupid. No. You see, I didn't lose at all. I didn't lose. I never ever lose. You'll come to see that over time. See, I was seconds away from that pin-fall, sure. Did I need it? Nah. I didn't need a win because I just needed you to see that I was completely capable of returning to the WFWF and standing in that ring again. That this wasn't a trick or some sort of elaborate hoax.
The best part of my return last week was the look on everyone's face in the back as they saw me walk through. No, STRIDE through. I like that word a bit better. Just say it out loud and you'll catch my drift. Stride! Stride. So yeah, striding on through, I saw the looks on people's faces. Or, at least, people in the know as to who I am. Terrified doesn't do it justice. And they definitely had right to be.
And then after my match, I forgot that feeling. Mate, it was like ecstasy. Those fans. The constant beating heart of moves and plans and 'think fast' moments plowing through my mind and funnelling out into the match. I love it. I walk backstage, having 'lost' (says you), I did have to calm down a bit. I did get a bit into it, must say. But you'd get it if you've been there. Especially after so long. Okay, so I went a bit overboard but then I heard those nine important, and deadly, words- the only words it was ever gonna take.
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“Diamond Jack Sabbath, please, could you just calm down?”
Hate it when I have to do this. I'm not his mother and I shouldn't be acting like it and yet here he is. Needing me. I mean, I get it, fine, he has issues. I've always known that and I'd be wrong not to address them or acknowledge them but he's better than this.
We struggle back from Gorilla to the locker room. The Wembley staff are always so nice and understanding to us. I think it's something to with Jack being from this country. I don't get it. Why are we even here. He's calmer now, though. Open to reason.
I see my moment. I need to ask him. I need to know what's going on.
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Oh, my Amy. She's lovely, really. I met her on my travels with the XWA and now, I just can't imagine life without her. Always there to reign me in. She took it upon herself to marry me, become my manager and personal assistant, not neccessarily in that order. Doesn't get enough credit, either. She doesn't get it yet, though. Why I've returned, that is.
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“I just want to understand your thinking,” I begin. “Why get me to invest all this time, all these resources, all these contracts solely so you can return to the WFWF without telling me why. What's going on in that head of yours? Why won't you let me help you?”
He's doing that thing he does. The tilted-head thing he does where he just doesn't wanna tell me. Dammit. He's so difficult. Like, deliberately. Why tell me I'm the only person you trust if you won't even open up to me on this? We flew to London. We came out of retirement. Answer me you ass!
“Look. I'm sorry, Amy...”
Oh God. Here he goes. The reason Leo will never get an Oscar is because of Diamond Jack Sabbath and his mastery of acting dejected.
“...I acted brash. I'm not telling you as much as I should be but I will. Tomorrow, I'll sit you down. We'll talk. Right now, no, not right now, can't talk right now.”
Why?
“Tired.”
But...aaaaaand off he goes. Leaving the room, probably to go and pace up and down the corridor or something. Still. Tomorrow, I guess. I'll know everything.
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Quite often, I'll make a recommendation to people getting into the ring with me, instructing them to “Just Run.” And I'd like to tell you that's a catchphrase, but it's not. It totally isn't at all. I mean I guess “Just Run” is snappier and looks better on a t-shirt and is less of a mouthful but it's all one big, lovely, helpful warning to say 'don't f*cking bother. Go home. You can't beat him. You can't be beat the Innovator of Anarchy. You're at dead end.”
And they know that. They heard it. They heard the warning and now look at what they're doing. Surely you've heard? No one back there wants to face me! No one on your little board of directors wants to risk the safety of others, and that's why we're here. That's why you did this. You went out of your way and you brought back the only man in your company that you know is insane enough to step in there, toe-to-toe, with me. You're dressing this up as a man's homecoming but when we face the facts who else was gonna do this? Is Joe Bishop gonna get in that ring with me? No. He's smart. He'd Just Run. Is Yukio Blaze gonna face me? No. He'd Just Run, dammit. So you went to all this trouble, you went the way to the dark side. You were so scared for your roster and what I'm gonna to do that you pulled out the most psychotic man in your entire company and let him loose and for that I say...
...Thank you!
Because I get you don't understand me yet. I really do get that. It's gonna be hard. I mean last time I was here, I didn't have a lot to me and now I've come back with a reputation, you're worried, I get that. So you went the whole way and found me someone who would, oh thank you!
Because I get you don't understand me yet. I really do get that. It's gonna be hard. I mean last time I was here, I didn't have a lot to me and now I've come back with a reputation, you're worried, I get that. So you went the whole way and found me someone who would, oh thank you!
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I settle down in the locker room with a book. I like the quiet. It's a nice change. A lot of people don't get that. How Jack can be so loud and I can like the peaceful quietness so much and somehow marriage happens. I guess I need it, though. Seriously. I think every introvert needs an extrovert to balance them out. It's almost like we're one full person now.
Vrrrrzzzz!
I think that was Jack's phone. No one texts Jack. XWA or WFWF HQ would get a hold of me. Whisper and Raine don't actually talk. Who on earth could this be? I take a chance. I shouldn't look, but he's being so secretive and usually he won't shut up. I unlock the screen. My surname is his password. It's from a number I don't recognise and the message is a word I've never seen before.
Well...at least he isn't cheating. So that's off the table. So what is he doing?
This is right after his return match. It HAS to be related to coming back.
Who texted him?
And what on earth is “XTREMIS”?
I put the phone back down quickly, put in exactly the same position it was previously in, even down to the slight slant it was on. I feel like a hypocrite. I feel rotten. And yet after all he's put me through over the years, I have the right to be concerned. I just want to know we're okay.
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Surely you understand me, Dex? I certainly understand you, you lonely little boy. That's what you are, really. What you've always been, when it comes down to it. I don't need a book of conditions and a masters degree in psychology to work you out, kidda. I don't even need a book of your life to know what happened. I've got you all worked out. You had a bad day once. A bad experience and suddenly it's like your brain stuck. And ever since then you've looked at the world. At society. You put out this idea that society rejected you, but no. YOU rejected society, and now you do it every single day to a point where you don't even notice. And over time you invented this world around you. You're Peter Pan in Neverland, the Boy Who Never Grew Up! You created a world where you could be an assassin, an experiment, a superhero, a man seen and feared. We both know that's not true though, don't we? Me and you, Kingsley.
But it's all in the mind. Dex was created because Dexter Kingsley couldn't dare to look at himself in the mirror and be satisfied. You're not a psychopath like all these people think you are. You were just dealt a crappy card and so you grabbed a napkin and drew up a new one. I know this because I've done the same in the past! It doesn't work!
I understand it, and I'm sorry. Really, mate. Proper sorry. But let's be real. Let's look at this logically, cause here's the deal we got looking at us at Homecoming. I'm Diamond Jack Sabbath and I'm hard to catch. I keep moving and all I'm going to do is rush you and hit you and hit you again and hit you again and hit you again. How do you expect to lock me in that Sakuraba Double Wristlock if you can't catch me when all I need is one Crown Kick to the back of your head and you're mince-meat? Big return or not, I literally do not care.
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A day since.
I was told I'd find out today and he hasn't said a damn thing. Maybe he knows. As we pack up our stuff, ready to check out, I feel a tingling sensation. A certain heaviness.
There's a giant pink elephant sat in this room and I don't think we have the room in our bags to pack him, so I think I better address this thing because I already feel sick when we travel anyway. I don't need this on top.
“Jack...”
He turns, and I feel like...I feel he knows what's coming.
“Amy.”
“I have to tell you something.”
Wait, did I say it funny? Did I do the wrinkly nose thing he mocks but secretly likes? He's smirking.
“Is it the fact you went on my phone and deliberately looked through my messages you find anything out? It's a phone, Amy. You were the only person in the room. A text doesn't just open it's self.”
F*ck. But no. Stand your ground, Amy. Stand up to this man. You wanna mother him? Be his goddamn mother and take control.
“Jack. Are we safe?”
“Oh yeah,” he nods, assuringly. “Perfectly safe, Amy Taylor. Well, as much as we can possibly be in the industry we're in. Don't you worry yourself.”
“What is Xtremis, Jack? What does it mean?”
He turns and he looks at me with those devils eyes of his. He does it all the time, and whenever he does, it's usually followed by something dubious.
“Xtremis? Oh you'll love it. It's to Die for. Now come on. We gotta catch a flight. Avante!”
And it seems on this day, let it be said that when it comes to dubious statements and the prediction thereof, Amelia Taylor-Sabbath was NOT wrong.
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Dex, Dexter Kingsley, I don't care how many of you there are in there, I'll take you all down and the best part is you're all one person so you all fall down. I'm sure you all have use of legs, so I'll make a suggestion now just so I HAVE said it. Just run, Dex. You were going to lose to me before you even knew I was a thing. Time to admit you're out of your depth. You've had your time in the sun. Now Burn.
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I don't know what Xtremis is. I don't know how to judge this, being that he's keeping it from me, which he never does. All I know is could be very dangerous for everyone involved.
I'm not going to stop him. You do NOT stop Diamond Jack Sabbath, its just not doable. What I WILL do is watch for now, and make sure Jack doesn't do anything stupid. It's the least I can do.
We leave the Hotel, away from Britain, away from this crowd that loved their local hero. And onto Portland...for a slightly different Homecoming
. To face a man more dangerous than I'd hoped.
. To face a man more dangerous than I'd hoped.
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Just Run, Dex.
Just...Run.
I dont know good luck 
