Post by Rated R on Oct 1, 2017 14:32:03 GMT -5
"If that woman knew we were back here she’d have a fit."
"That’s half the fun."
The kid’s right, for once. Lila doesn’t want me hanging around unless I’m booked, sees me as a danger to the rest of the roster. She should, because I am. I’m also not about to start listening to the wishes of an idiot.
"Anyway, what’re you worried about? You’ve not even got a contract, Lila can’t do anything to you. And she sure can’t do sh*t to me either."
Show’s just starting, the usual firework and panning shot crap. I swear, we were more dynamic when I was running the place. I run my finger over the baseball bat in my hand, letting it scrape along the floor behind me. Told Tyler it’s just for show, to keep people from bothering me. Truth is, I plan to do some bothering of my own with this thing.
"I just don’t get why we couldn’t skip this one. You’re not booked, couldn’t we just... I don’t know, chill or something?"
"When did I give you the idea I’m the type to chill?"
I hear the music the moment it hits the speakers. Hard not to, music always echoes through the hallways of these arenas, but tonight it’s louder than most. My fingers get itchy around the bat.
"You stay here."
"What? Where’re you-"
"Dealing with some business."
"What kind of business?"
"The kind you’ll become if you don't shut up and just stay there!"
He doesn’t utter another word, thank god. Don’t want to cave the kid’s head in, it’d make the past few months of willing my way through all his asinine comments feel like a waste. Not that I won’t. I’m sure one day I’ll have to take this bat to his skull one way or another, I’d just rather leave it till it’s a necessity.
Especially when there are so many better targets to be dealing with.
He’s already out there when I take a spot in the dark of the crowd, peering through the doors that separate me from the masses of filth. Already started speaking too. Sad, would’ve loved to hear him whine some more, but I’m not one to let someone talk when I’m not interested in listening. And tonight I’m not interested in much.
Aside from the obvious.
"I lost the WFWF World Championship too soon to make any difference to this sh*t show of a wrestling company, and I’ve got nobody to blame but myself. Now I could blame Lila Sleater for clearly setting the scales against me, even a blind person could see that she wanted that title off of me and around David Brennan’s waist, but I won’t, because that’s the very same kind of thing I’m trying to stop. Excuses, politics, main events like this carnival show tonight… those are the kind of things this revolution is about. I had the chance to make a real difference, a chance to change things with that title around my waist and I failed. But if you think I’m done, you’re damn wrong!"
Yap, yap, yap, that’s all you ever seem to do anymore Bishop. You ask me, it’s gotten pretty boring. Which is why I’m going to change your chat and give you something to really moan about. I’m bored of breaking little things, time to move onto something bigger, something with a little more gravitas.
"I might have lost, but this revolution is not done! That title might not be around my waist right now, but it damn well will be soon. I’ve got a rematch coming my way and Brennan, now that I’ve felt what it’s like to have that title and lose it you can be damn sure that I’m going to fight like my life depends on it to get it back. Not just for me, but for all of these fans who deserve a champion they can look up to and a company they can respect. And Brennan, as much as I respect the things you can do in this ring, that champion is not you."
Nobody notices me as I walk down the stairs, because they’re all too busy watching the sparkly new thing to pay attention to the demon in their midst. It’s not until I’ve jumped the guard rail that anybody sees me, and by then it’s already to late. I’ve already rolled inside the ring.
"You know it, I know it, these people know it. You might have changed your ways but you are not somebody these people can rally behind, you are not somebody who can change this company the way it needs to be changed."
I’ve already lined my shot up.
"The only man here capable of doing that is me, and it doesn’t matter how much blood, sweat and tears I have to give to do it, I will get my title back."
I’ve already swung the bat.
"This revolution isn’t over, it’s only just-"
It’s already far too late.
CRACK!
< *** >
Trace Demon Presents
Protégé
Tyler
"The kind you’ll become if you don't shut up and just stay there!"
He doesn’t utter another word, he’s already gone, off down the corridor, leaving me stood there like an idiot. Nothing new there. I’ve never felt stupid, not until I started spending time around Trace Demon. But ever since… well, all I ever feel is stupid, but still, not stupid enough to not know something bad is about to happen.
Whenever Trace goes off on his own something bad always happens. I knew that before of course, even before I sought him out to train me. I’ve watched the WFWF a long time, seen the violence, the bloodshed, the gore. But seeing it in person, seeing what he does to people, for fun, it’s different. I had the chance to bail, to get out, but I didn’t take it. Having him train me was more important. I’ve got my reasons, but still, I made my choice.
Now I’ve got to learn to deal with the consequences.
"I don’t remember granting you a backstage pass?"
"Oh, my name’s Tyler, I’m with-"
"I know who you are Mr. Draven. And I know who you’re with. If you thought that would make you more welcome back here then you evidently don’t know much about the WFWF. Or about me."
Lila Sleater hates Trace Demon, which apparently means she doesn’t like me either. Even though we’ve never met.
"So again, I don’t remember granting you a backstage pass."
"Um…"
"Um? I see Trace hasn’t taught you how to talk yet. Disappointing. He might be a piece of sh*t but at least the man can talk a good game."
God, did I run over this woman’s dog and nobody told me?
"Let me ask you something, because I’ve been trying to work it out ever since they told me that Trace had taken on some kind of student. Is that what he’s calling you? You know what, I don’t care. What I want to know is if you really think a man like Trace Demon is really interested in helping you?"
What does it even matter to her? What is with people in this place and not just letting others do their own thing?
"That’s kinda what he’s doing already… in his own way."
Not every teacher’d take their student to watch them hang a superhero by a cape and then leave them in the Canadian outback, that’s for sure.
"Trace Demon’s ‘own way’ involves stabbing every single person stupid enough to turn their back on him in it with a very sharp knife Mr. Draven. It would be a shame if your dream was cut short because of his lack of loyalty. That is not a trait I share with him, I can assure you."
Not sure where this is going, but it feels mighty shady.
"Should you ever wish to have an actual career as a wrestler let me recommend making the right kind of friends, the kind that won’t sell you down the river. Trace Demon isn’t going to help you, he’s only going to help himself. If you’re smart then you’ll get him before he gets you. And who knows, enough people hate Trace Demon that I’m sure they’d owe you one."
"Wait, are you trying to bribe me or something?"
That grin’s a big old yes, if you ask me.
"I’m just giving you some friendly advice. I’d hate to see another young career cut short because of that megalomaniac."
And then there’s a burst of activity, half-a-dozen people rush past us, one stopping and, after a glance in my direction, whispers something in her ear. Whatever he says can’t be good, because suddenly she’s glaring in my direction and speeding off after them. I only hear two words as they rush off. But it’s all I need to hear to understand what’s going on.
Joe Bishop.
< *** >
A Year Ago
"You want a top up Mr. Crowe?"
"Go for it."
He says it with a grin. I learned a long time ago that rising stars love to be the centre of attention, especially from a pretty girl. That’s why the Brass Knucks nightclub was one of my smarter investments. Who can be on edge when you’ve got barely legal girls pouring you drinks? Certainly not Lucas Crowe.
"Gotta say boss, when you invited me here I was expecting something a little more formal, y’know?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I dunno, thought Drakz would be here for one. Figured this’d be another one of those meetings where the two of you try to out-smug each other and I sit here awkwardly."
If there’s one thing I’ve always liked about Lucas Crowe it’s that he always says it like it is. Sure, he’s basically a lackey to two men with huge egos, but he knows it, and he accepts it, and he doesn’t take any sh*t from either of us. It’s refreshing.
"No, just you and me tonight. Figured you deserved a night off from me and Drakz, what did you call it, trying to out-smug each other?"
"Look man, didn’t say it was a bad thing, it’s actually kinda funny. Just gets a bit old after a while, y’know? Not exactly fresh after the twentieth time you’ve heard the two of you go at it."
"Look, right now? Forget Drakz, this isn’t about him. It’s not about Tyme either. Barely even about me. This is about you. This is about you and the WFWF. Why’d you want to become a wrestler Crowe?"
"You know my story man, Tyme recruited me, figured we could make some money together, have some success, settle a few of his old scores in the process."
"No, that’s why Tyme wanted to make you a wrestler. I want to know why you wanted to be one."
And suddenly the outspoken Lucas Crowe has no words, because how’d you answer something you’ve hidden away in your own mind.
"You know what I think? I think you became a wrestler because you didn’t have anything else. It was either this or you stuck to being a bouncer the rest of your life. And you didn’t want that, did you?"
"I was fine where I was."
"F*ck fine! Who wants fine? You think I’ve ever done anything so I can say my life was fine? No, everything I’ve done is down to one thing. Because I wanted it. And you? You want this too, right? You want to make something of yourself, you want to be somebody, you want to impress that girl you’re always obsessing over. Don’t think I don’t pay attention. You didn’t become a wrestler for Tyme, and you didn’t become one because it’s your dream, you became a wrestler because it’ll get you what you want, right?"
"Seems like you’ve got it all worked out for me, don’t it?"
There’s this need, whenever anybody tells you the truth, to be defiant, because you don’t want to make out like you’re being told what to do, what you want, even if it’s true, even if it’s right. Truth is people don’t want to make their own decisions, they want to feel like they’re making their own decisions. It’s the illusion of control, it’s what makes the world keep spinning.
"Crowe, we both know this thing with you and Tyme isn’t going to last. You’re already catching onto his game, seeing him for who he really is. What matters to me is what happens next. When it all goes sideways, when you finally push him out the car, who makes sure you stay on the road?"
"Sounds like you’re offering me a seat at the table, so to speak. But what makes you think you’ve got me pegged at all Trace? Maybe me and Tyme are doing just fine, or maybe I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself on the road?"
"Maybe, but why take the risk?"
Silence, just for a moment. The sound from the club floor below seeps into the room, a gentle reminder of the success I bring with me, a golden guarantee that I know what I’m talking about. You think holding a meeting in a nightclub is stupid? I think it’s f*cking golden.
"You’ve got something special Crowe, and it’d be a shame to see it go to waste. I want to offer you a chance, when the implosion between you and Tyme inevitably comes, to not be taken down with it. You’ve already proven yourself, more than once. And you’re trustworthy. People like that don’t come along all that often, and when they do I like to make sure they’re on my side, not against me."
"Maybe I’m done taking sides."
"Maybe? But maybe you’re smart enough to know a good deal when it comes along. Maybe you’re smart enough to know that people like me don’t make offers like this all too often, so when they do it’d be stupid to turn it down. I see something in you Crowe, and I’ve invested my time and effort into you, I’d be extremely disappointed if all of that went to waste. Just something to consider."
"Another top up?"
"Yeah, he’ll have another, won’t you Luke? After all, we’ve got plenty more business to discuss."
Right there. The moment of hesitation. The moment I should have known that he’d do nothing but disappoint, just like all the rest.
"Yeah, fill it up love."
The moment I should have cut him down there and then.
< *** >
The Getaway
"Did nobody ever teach you that the trick to a quick getaway is the quick part? Seriously kid, my mom moves faster than you and she got offed years back."
We duck out a side door, the bat still in my hand, the buzz nowhere near fading. I keep hearing the crack of Bishop’s knee in my ear, that beautiful f*cking crack.
"Did you know you were gonna do that?"
"What? No kid, I swung the bat and accidentally caught Bishop in the leg. F*cking hell. Now hurry up!"
Usually I’d take some more time to bathe in what just went down, to enjoy the moment, maybe even go in after Lynn, a two-for-one offer. But not tonight, Lynn needs to wait, I want to savour the dissolution of the revolution. Not done it all in one go.
"No, I mean… is that why you came tonight? Just to attack Bishop?"
"Would it matter?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Honeslty kid I didn’t even know Bishop was going to be in the building tonight. Now if you want to ask me whether I came here to hurt someone… well, I didn’t bring the bat for nothing."
"That’s f*cked up."
We’re just a few steps away from the car. If I had a cool driver he’d have sped round the corner when we stepped through the door into the parking lot. But then I’d probably get annoyed at how cool he was and push him out the car door.
"You’ve got to stop being so surprised every time I try to end somebody. That’s kind of my thing right now."
"Still f*cked up."
"Are you trying to wind me up? Because you’re going the right way about it."
"No, I’m trying to make sense of how a guy gets to the point that he gets his rocks off by breaking someone’s leg with a baseball bat! That’s not right man, people get five years for less than that."
Not in the magical world of professional wrestling. You’re a budding sociopath who wants to hurt people but are too scared of the consequences. Simple. Become a wrestler.
"You know what happens if I don’t go out there and hurt people? Then I get hurt. Or worse, forgotten. So end of the day kid you’ve got to ask yourself whether you want to be the one swinging the bat or the one getting his leg broken. I know which way I lean."
He stares at me from across the roof of the car, his brain ticking along, not quite as slow as the rest of him.
"Look kid, a lot of people are gonna tell you a lot of things. And they’re gonna offer it up like it’s gospel. Me? I’m only gonna offer up what I believe, but it’s down to you to decide whether it works for you. Only thing I’d say about it is that I’m rich as sh*t and I’ve won everything there is worth winning, so I must be doing something right."
"It’s not that simple."
"Sure it is. Do you want to be rich and successful, or do you want to be a good person. Because if you want to be the latter then we’ve got no place being around each other. So… you coming or not?"
He opens the car door, almost immediately. No hesitation.
No hesitation at all.
Maybe he’ll turn out to be a worthwhile investment after all.
< *** >
Months Ago
"God Justin, you look like sh*t."
I don’t like Justin Tyme. I’ve never liked Justin Tyme. To be honest I laughed for a good few hours when I heard about the beating he got from Crowe. Course that was until I found out Crowe had vanished from the face of the Earth. Found it hard to find any humour in it after that.
"Place still looks nice. That a new desk? Old one a bit too cracked for you, eh?"
He scowls. Tough crowd.
"Right then, not even keeping up the pretence of being civil? Works for me. Let’s get straight to business then."
"Let me ask you something first, if you’ll humour me?"
"Sure, it looks like you could use a break."
"What makes you think that, after all the taunting, after all the insults, after you had a direct hand in Lucas not only turning his back on me but also… laying his hands on me, that I would allow you to walk into my home and leave unscathed?"
I’m not stupid. I’m not mad either. I knew that Tyme would want revenge, that coming here was a risky play. I’m also well aware that he’s got his little goon squad right outside the door, ready to kick twenty shades of sh*t out of me the moment he gives the signal. Now usually I’d fancy my chances, but money buys good goons, so I’d rather avoid it. Of course, I have leverage. That’s the whole point.
"Because I’ve got something that’s going to turn your frown positively upside down."
"What could you possibly have for me Trace? In what universe could you possibly do anything that would change my mind about wiping that smirk permanently off of your face?"
"This universe, obviously. Come on, don’t tell me you’re not the least bit intrigued?"
"I’m still listening, aren’t I?"
And he’s hooked.
"Lucas Crowe."
"What?"
"That’s what I’m offering. Lucas Crowe. On a silver platter. Here."
I throw the papers across to him. He picks them up, curious, drawn in, a fish ready to bite.
"Liberated that from the WFWF office. Well, a certain ex-secretary of mine did anyway. It’s still legally binding. As far as the WFWF are concerned that contract remains suspended until either all dates are used up or somebody pays off the balance of them. Must have got lost in the handover of power, but I never forgot."
"This means…"
"That as far as you, I and the WFWF are concerned you’re still Lucas Crowe's agent, and he’s still a member of the WFWF roster. All it’s gonna take is for you to either call him back into action or pay off the debt."
"Why would you bring me this?"
"Because I know which option you’re gonna pick Tyme, because you’re as much of a vengeful d*ck as I am. Lucas Crowe crossed us both. You… well that’s obvious, he kicked the sh*t out of you. And me? Well I’ve got my reasons for wanting him back in the WFWF, and they all involve me cracking his skull which, I figure, wouldn’t just settle whatever debt you’ve got in your head between us, but also bring us both great personal joy."
He stares at the contract in his hand, but we both know that the choice is already made. A man like Justin Tyme, he’s not gonna let this slip out of his hand. He wants revenge, it’s in his DNA to want it, just like me. God, sends shivers down my spine admitting we’ve got something in common. Gonna have to take a long, scolding hot shower after this.
"So?"
"I’ll make the call to Lila Sleater personally."
"Fantastic. Then as of right now Lucas Crowe is as good a member of the WFWF roster as anyone else."
And as good as dead, as well.
< *** >
You know there was a time when Lucas Crowe was going to be the next big thing in professional wrestling. Lucas Crowe had everything. He had the size, the strength, the charisma, the interesting backstory. Everything you possibly need to be relevant, Lucas Crowe had. That’s before you bring up the fact he had the backing of a millionaire and was working with one of the very best wrestlers of the modern day. And Drakz. Fact is Lucas Crowe was made to be a champion. He was set up from the very day he walked into the company to be a future headline player. National Champion. International Champion. There’s no doubt in my mind if he’d kept going the way he was going he’d have been the World Champion by now. So what happened? How is the Lucas Crowe that I see now so different to the one I backed before?
Now I know what you’re gonna say. Things change. Sh*t happens. Life doesn’t go according to plan. And sure, maybe that’s got a little something to do with it. Maybe things did change for Lucas Crowe. Maybe sh*t did happen to Lucas Crowe. Maybe life didn’t go according to plan for Lucas Crowe. But if you ask me, you can’t blame things, sh*t or life for what actually happened. The only man you can blame for what happened to Lucas Crowe… is Lucas Crowe. You see he had everything. We gave him everything. The opportunity, the training, the spotlight, everything you need to be a star we gave him. Me, Drakz, Justin Tyme. Maybe more me than the others but that’s obvious. Point is, there is no reason why he is not a star right now. At least, there’s no good reason.
Fact is, we’d be having a very different conversation right now… if I hadn’t been wrong.
I know! Shocking right? Trace Demon admitting he was wrong. Hold onto that, it doesn’t come around often. But this time I’ll hold my hands up. I thought Lucas Crowe had the god damn fortitude to stand his ground and make something of himself. But I was wrong, because at the end of the day he proved himself to be just like everybody else. Just another f*cking loser. See Lucas Crowe p*ssed off because he didn’t have the one thing that nobody can teach you. The one thing that nobody knows you’ve got until you either prove you do… or you prove you don’t. Guts. Balls. Determination. Call it what you want, but it’s the difference between a guy with talent and a star. It’s the difference between a main eventer and a champion. People like me? There’s a reason I’m still here when so many others have come and gone. Because no matter what, no matter how the beating, no matter how devastating the loss, I stay standing. I turn back up. I don’t quit.
Lucas Crowe is a quitter. Lucas Crowe is a loser. Lucas Crowe is a f*cking coward.
See Crowe, I talked you up. I had your back. I invested time, money, effort, into you. And what did you do? You dropped out. You left. You took your ball and you went home. And you know what? It pissed me off! Because you wasted all of it. Your talent, my time, you wasted it. When there are so many people out there that wanted to be where you were, that would have killed to work with people like me and Drakz, and you wasted it. You god damn idiot! What gives you the right? You know there’s not a lot of people that I genuinely hate. I mean there’s plenty of people I want to hurt, there’s plenty of people I want to break, but there’s not a lot of people that I genuinely feel hatred boil up inside me because of.
But you? I hate you. What you did, what you wasted, it offends me. And I’ve never forgotten it. So you thought you could just walk away and you’d never have to deal with what you did? No. Because this is my ring, this is my company and this is my world and if you cross me then there is a price to pay. You thought you could just walk away? That I wouldn’t find you? That I wouldn’t take my pound of flesh? Well let me make it perfectly clear to you and to anyone else who thinks they can cross me and my bat.
There is no walking away from Trace Demon.
"That’s half the fun."
The kid’s right, for once. Lila doesn’t want me hanging around unless I’m booked, sees me as a danger to the rest of the roster. She should, because I am. I’m also not about to start listening to the wishes of an idiot.
"Anyway, what’re you worried about? You’ve not even got a contract, Lila can’t do anything to you. And she sure can’t do sh*t to me either."
Show’s just starting, the usual firework and panning shot crap. I swear, we were more dynamic when I was running the place. I run my finger over the baseball bat in my hand, letting it scrape along the floor behind me. Told Tyler it’s just for show, to keep people from bothering me. Truth is, I plan to do some bothering of my own with this thing.
"I just don’t get why we couldn’t skip this one. You’re not booked, couldn’t we just... I don’t know, chill or something?"
"When did I give you the idea I’m the type to chill?"
I hear the music the moment it hits the speakers. Hard not to, music always echoes through the hallways of these arenas, but tonight it’s louder than most. My fingers get itchy around the bat.
"You stay here."
"What? Where’re you-"
"Dealing with some business."
"What kind of business?"
"The kind you’ll become if you don't shut up and just stay there!"
He doesn’t utter another word, thank god. Don’t want to cave the kid’s head in, it’d make the past few months of willing my way through all his asinine comments feel like a waste. Not that I won’t. I’m sure one day I’ll have to take this bat to his skull one way or another, I’d just rather leave it till it’s a necessity.
Especially when there are so many better targets to be dealing with.
He’s already out there when I take a spot in the dark of the crowd, peering through the doors that separate me from the masses of filth. Already started speaking too. Sad, would’ve loved to hear him whine some more, but I’m not one to let someone talk when I’m not interested in listening. And tonight I’m not interested in much.
Aside from the obvious.
"I lost the WFWF World Championship too soon to make any difference to this sh*t show of a wrestling company, and I’ve got nobody to blame but myself. Now I could blame Lila Sleater for clearly setting the scales against me, even a blind person could see that she wanted that title off of me and around David Brennan’s waist, but I won’t, because that’s the very same kind of thing I’m trying to stop. Excuses, politics, main events like this carnival show tonight… those are the kind of things this revolution is about. I had the chance to make a real difference, a chance to change things with that title around my waist and I failed. But if you think I’m done, you’re damn wrong!"
Yap, yap, yap, that’s all you ever seem to do anymore Bishop. You ask me, it’s gotten pretty boring. Which is why I’m going to change your chat and give you something to really moan about. I’m bored of breaking little things, time to move onto something bigger, something with a little more gravitas.
"I might have lost, but this revolution is not done! That title might not be around my waist right now, but it damn well will be soon. I’ve got a rematch coming my way and Brennan, now that I’ve felt what it’s like to have that title and lose it you can be damn sure that I’m going to fight like my life depends on it to get it back. Not just for me, but for all of these fans who deserve a champion they can look up to and a company they can respect. And Brennan, as much as I respect the things you can do in this ring, that champion is not you."
Nobody notices me as I walk down the stairs, because they’re all too busy watching the sparkly new thing to pay attention to the demon in their midst. It’s not until I’ve jumped the guard rail that anybody sees me, and by then it’s already to late. I’ve already rolled inside the ring.
"You know it, I know it, these people know it. You might have changed your ways but you are not somebody these people can rally behind, you are not somebody who can change this company the way it needs to be changed."
I’ve already lined my shot up.
"The only man here capable of doing that is me, and it doesn’t matter how much blood, sweat and tears I have to give to do it, I will get my title back."
I’ve already swung the bat.
"This revolution isn’t over, it’s only just-"
It’s already far too late.
CRACK!
< *** >
Trace Demon Presents
Protégé
Tyler
"The kind you’ll become if you don't shut up and just stay there!"
He doesn’t utter another word, he’s already gone, off down the corridor, leaving me stood there like an idiot. Nothing new there. I’ve never felt stupid, not until I started spending time around Trace Demon. But ever since… well, all I ever feel is stupid, but still, not stupid enough to not know something bad is about to happen.
Whenever Trace goes off on his own something bad always happens. I knew that before of course, even before I sought him out to train me. I’ve watched the WFWF a long time, seen the violence, the bloodshed, the gore. But seeing it in person, seeing what he does to people, for fun, it’s different. I had the chance to bail, to get out, but I didn’t take it. Having him train me was more important. I’ve got my reasons, but still, I made my choice.
Now I’ve got to learn to deal with the consequences.
"I don’t remember granting you a backstage pass?"
"Oh, my name’s Tyler, I’m with-"
"I know who you are Mr. Draven. And I know who you’re with. If you thought that would make you more welcome back here then you evidently don’t know much about the WFWF. Or about me."
Lila Sleater hates Trace Demon, which apparently means she doesn’t like me either. Even though we’ve never met.
"So again, I don’t remember granting you a backstage pass."
"Um…"
"Um? I see Trace hasn’t taught you how to talk yet. Disappointing. He might be a piece of sh*t but at least the man can talk a good game."
God, did I run over this woman’s dog and nobody told me?
"Let me ask you something, because I’ve been trying to work it out ever since they told me that Trace had taken on some kind of student. Is that what he’s calling you? You know what, I don’t care. What I want to know is if you really think a man like Trace Demon is really interested in helping you?"
What does it even matter to her? What is with people in this place and not just letting others do their own thing?
"That’s kinda what he’s doing already… in his own way."
Not every teacher’d take their student to watch them hang a superhero by a cape and then leave them in the Canadian outback, that’s for sure.
"Trace Demon’s ‘own way’ involves stabbing every single person stupid enough to turn their back on him in it with a very sharp knife Mr. Draven. It would be a shame if your dream was cut short because of his lack of loyalty. That is not a trait I share with him, I can assure you."
Not sure where this is going, but it feels mighty shady.
"Should you ever wish to have an actual career as a wrestler let me recommend making the right kind of friends, the kind that won’t sell you down the river. Trace Demon isn’t going to help you, he’s only going to help himself. If you’re smart then you’ll get him before he gets you. And who knows, enough people hate Trace Demon that I’m sure they’d owe you one."
"Wait, are you trying to bribe me or something?"
That grin’s a big old yes, if you ask me.
"I’m just giving you some friendly advice. I’d hate to see another young career cut short because of that megalomaniac."
And then there’s a burst of activity, half-a-dozen people rush past us, one stopping and, after a glance in my direction, whispers something in her ear. Whatever he says can’t be good, because suddenly she’s glaring in my direction and speeding off after them. I only hear two words as they rush off. But it’s all I need to hear to understand what’s going on.
Joe Bishop.
< *** >
A Year Ago
"You want a top up Mr. Crowe?"
"Go for it."
He says it with a grin. I learned a long time ago that rising stars love to be the centre of attention, especially from a pretty girl. That’s why the Brass Knucks nightclub was one of my smarter investments. Who can be on edge when you’ve got barely legal girls pouring you drinks? Certainly not Lucas Crowe.
"Gotta say boss, when you invited me here I was expecting something a little more formal, y’know?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I dunno, thought Drakz would be here for one. Figured this’d be another one of those meetings where the two of you try to out-smug each other and I sit here awkwardly."
If there’s one thing I’ve always liked about Lucas Crowe it’s that he always says it like it is. Sure, he’s basically a lackey to two men with huge egos, but he knows it, and he accepts it, and he doesn’t take any sh*t from either of us. It’s refreshing.
"No, just you and me tonight. Figured you deserved a night off from me and Drakz, what did you call it, trying to out-smug each other?"
"Look man, didn’t say it was a bad thing, it’s actually kinda funny. Just gets a bit old after a while, y’know? Not exactly fresh after the twentieth time you’ve heard the two of you go at it."
"Look, right now? Forget Drakz, this isn’t about him. It’s not about Tyme either. Barely even about me. This is about you. This is about you and the WFWF. Why’d you want to become a wrestler Crowe?"
"You know my story man, Tyme recruited me, figured we could make some money together, have some success, settle a few of his old scores in the process."
"No, that’s why Tyme wanted to make you a wrestler. I want to know why you wanted to be one."
And suddenly the outspoken Lucas Crowe has no words, because how’d you answer something you’ve hidden away in your own mind.
"You know what I think? I think you became a wrestler because you didn’t have anything else. It was either this or you stuck to being a bouncer the rest of your life. And you didn’t want that, did you?"
"I was fine where I was."
"F*ck fine! Who wants fine? You think I’ve ever done anything so I can say my life was fine? No, everything I’ve done is down to one thing. Because I wanted it. And you? You want this too, right? You want to make something of yourself, you want to be somebody, you want to impress that girl you’re always obsessing over. Don’t think I don’t pay attention. You didn’t become a wrestler for Tyme, and you didn’t become one because it’s your dream, you became a wrestler because it’ll get you what you want, right?"
"Seems like you’ve got it all worked out for me, don’t it?"
There’s this need, whenever anybody tells you the truth, to be defiant, because you don’t want to make out like you’re being told what to do, what you want, even if it’s true, even if it’s right. Truth is people don’t want to make their own decisions, they want to feel like they’re making their own decisions. It’s the illusion of control, it’s what makes the world keep spinning.
"Crowe, we both know this thing with you and Tyme isn’t going to last. You’re already catching onto his game, seeing him for who he really is. What matters to me is what happens next. When it all goes sideways, when you finally push him out the car, who makes sure you stay on the road?"
"Sounds like you’re offering me a seat at the table, so to speak. But what makes you think you’ve got me pegged at all Trace? Maybe me and Tyme are doing just fine, or maybe I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself on the road?"
"Maybe, but why take the risk?"
Silence, just for a moment. The sound from the club floor below seeps into the room, a gentle reminder of the success I bring with me, a golden guarantee that I know what I’m talking about. You think holding a meeting in a nightclub is stupid? I think it’s f*cking golden.
"You’ve got something special Crowe, and it’d be a shame to see it go to waste. I want to offer you a chance, when the implosion between you and Tyme inevitably comes, to not be taken down with it. You’ve already proven yourself, more than once. And you’re trustworthy. People like that don’t come along all that often, and when they do I like to make sure they’re on my side, not against me."
"Maybe I’m done taking sides."
"Maybe? But maybe you’re smart enough to know a good deal when it comes along. Maybe you’re smart enough to know that people like me don’t make offers like this all too often, so when they do it’d be stupid to turn it down. I see something in you Crowe, and I’ve invested my time and effort into you, I’d be extremely disappointed if all of that went to waste. Just something to consider."
"Another top up?"
"Yeah, he’ll have another, won’t you Luke? After all, we’ve got plenty more business to discuss."
Right there. The moment of hesitation. The moment I should have known that he’d do nothing but disappoint, just like all the rest.
"Yeah, fill it up love."
The moment I should have cut him down there and then.
< *** >
The Getaway
"Did nobody ever teach you that the trick to a quick getaway is the quick part? Seriously kid, my mom moves faster than you and she got offed years back."
We duck out a side door, the bat still in my hand, the buzz nowhere near fading. I keep hearing the crack of Bishop’s knee in my ear, that beautiful f*cking crack.
"Did you know you were gonna do that?"
"What? No kid, I swung the bat and accidentally caught Bishop in the leg. F*cking hell. Now hurry up!"
Usually I’d take some more time to bathe in what just went down, to enjoy the moment, maybe even go in after Lynn, a two-for-one offer. But not tonight, Lynn needs to wait, I want to savour the dissolution of the revolution. Not done it all in one go.
"No, I mean… is that why you came tonight? Just to attack Bishop?"
"Would it matter?"
"Yeah, kinda."
"Honeslty kid I didn’t even know Bishop was going to be in the building tonight. Now if you want to ask me whether I came here to hurt someone… well, I didn’t bring the bat for nothing."
"That’s f*cked up."
We’re just a few steps away from the car. If I had a cool driver he’d have sped round the corner when we stepped through the door into the parking lot. But then I’d probably get annoyed at how cool he was and push him out the car door.
"You’ve got to stop being so surprised every time I try to end somebody. That’s kind of my thing right now."
"Still f*cked up."
"Are you trying to wind me up? Because you’re going the right way about it."
"No, I’m trying to make sense of how a guy gets to the point that he gets his rocks off by breaking someone’s leg with a baseball bat! That’s not right man, people get five years for less than that."
Not in the magical world of professional wrestling. You’re a budding sociopath who wants to hurt people but are too scared of the consequences. Simple. Become a wrestler.
"You know what happens if I don’t go out there and hurt people? Then I get hurt. Or worse, forgotten. So end of the day kid you’ve got to ask yourself whether you want to be the one swinging the bat or the one getting his leg broken. I know which way I lean."
He stares at me from across the roof of the car, his brain ticking along, not quite as slow as the rest of him.
"Look kid, a lot of people are gonna tell you a lot of things. And they’re gonna offer it up like it’s gospel. Me? I’m only gonna offer up what I believe, but it’s down to you to decide whether it works for you. Only thing I’d say about it is that I’m rich as sh*t and I’ve won everything there is worth winning, so I must be doing something right."
"It’s not that simple."
"Sure it is. Do you want to be rich and successful, or do you want to be a good person. Because if you want to be the latter then we’ve got no place being around each other. So… you coming or not?"
He opens the car door, almost immediately. No hesitation.
No hesitation at all.
Maybe he’ll turn out to be a worthwhile investment after all.
< *** >
Months Ago
"God Justin, you look like sh*t."
I don’t like Justin Tyme. I’ve never liked Justin Tyme. To be honest I laughed for a good few hours when I heard about the beating he got from Crowe. Course that was until I found out Crowe had vanished from the face of the Earth. Found it hard to find any humour in it after that.
"Place still looks nice. That a new desk? Old one a bit too cracked for you, eh?"
He scowls. Tough crowd.
"Right then, not even keeping up the pretence of being civil? Works for me. Let’s get straight to business then."
"Let me ask you something first, if you’ll humour me?"
"Sure, it looks like you could use a break."
"What makes you think that, after all the taunting, after all the insults, after you had a direct hand in Lucas not only turning his back on me but also… laying his hands on me, that I would allow you to walk into my home and leave unscathed?"
I’m not stupid. I’m not mad either. I knew that Tyme would want revenge, that coming here was a risky play. I’m also well aware that he’s got his little goon squad right outside the door, ready to kick twenty shades of sh*t out of me the moment he gives the signal. Now usually I’d fancy my chances, but money buys good goons, so I’d rather avoid it. Of course, I have leverage. That’s the whole point.
"Because I’ve got something that’s going to turn your frown positively upside down."
"What could you possibly have for me Trace? In what universe could you possibly do anything that would change my mind about wiping that smirk permanently off of your face?"
"This universe, obviously. Come on, don’t tell me you’re not the least bit intrigued?"
"I’m still listening, aren’t I?"
And he’s hooked.
"Lucas Crowe."
"What?"
"That’s what I’m offering. Lucas Crowe. On a silver platter. Here."
I throw the papers across to him. He picks them up, curious, drawn in, a fish ready to bite.
"Liberated that from the WFWF office. Well, a certain ex-secretary of mine did anyway. It’s still legally binding. As far as the WFWF are concerned that contract remains suspended until either all dates are used up or somebody pays off the balance of them. Must have got lost in the handover of power, but I never forgot."
"This means…"
"That as far as you, I and the WFWF are concerned you’re still Lucas Crowe's agent, and he’s still a member of the WFWF roster. All it’s gonna take is for you to either call him back into action or pay off the debt."
"Why would you bring me this?"
"Because I know which option you’re gonna pick Tyme, because you’re as much of a vengeful d*ck as I am. Lucas Crowe crossed us both. You… well that’s obvious, he kicked the sh*t out of you. And me? Well I’ve got my reasons for wanting him back in the WFWF, and they all involve me cracking his skull which, I figure, wouldn’t just settle whatever debt you’ve got in your head between us, but also bring us both great personal joy."
He stares at the contract in his hand, but we both know that the choice is already made. A man like Justin Tyme, he’s not gonna let this slip out of his hand. He wants revenge, it’s in his DNA to want it, just like me. God, sends shivers down my spine admitting we’ve got something in common. Gonna have to take a long, scolding hot shower after this.
"So?"
"I’ll make the call to Lila Sleater personally."
"Fantastic. Then as of right now Lucas Crowe is as good a member of the WFWF roster as anyone else."
And as good as dead, as well.
< *** >
You know there was a time when Lucas Crowe was going to be the next big thing in professional wrestling. Lucas Crowe had everything. He had the size, the strength, the charisma, the interesting backstory. Everything you possibly need to be relevant, Lucas Crowe had. That’s before you bring up the fact he had the backing of a millionaire and was working with one of the very best wrestlers of the modern day. And Drakz. Fact is Lucas Crowe was made to be a champion. He was set up from the very day he walked into the company to be a future headline player. National Champion. International Champion. There’s no doubt in my mind if he’d kept going the way he was going he’d have been the World Champion by now. So what happened? How is the Lucas Crowe that I see now so different to the one I backed before?
Now I know what you’re gonna say. Things change. Sh*t happens. Life doesn’t go according to plan. And sure, maybe that’s got a little something to do with it. Maybe things did change for Lucas Crowe. Maybe sh*t did happen to Lucas Crowe. Maybe life didn’t go according to plan for Lucas Crowe. But if you ask me, you can’t blame things, sh*t or life for what actually happened. The only man you can blame for what happened to Lucas Crowe… is Lucas Crowe. You see he had everything. We gave him everything. The opportunity, the training, the spotlight, everything you need to be a star we gave him. Me, Drakz, Justin Tyme. Maybe more me than the others but that’s obvious. Point is, there is no reason why he is not a star right now. At least, there’s no good reason.
Fact is, we’d be having a very different conversation right now… if I hadn’t been wrong.
I know! Shocking right? Trace Demon admitting he was wrong. Hold onto that, it doesn’t come around often. But this time I’ll hold my hands up. I thought Lucas Crowe had the god damn fortitude to stand his ground and make something of himself. But I was wrong, because at the end of the day he proved himself to be just like everybody else. Just another f*cking loser. See Lucas Crowe p*ssed off because he didn’t have the one thing that nobody can teach you. The one thing that nobody knows you’ve got until you either prove you do… or you prove you don’t. Guts. Balls. Determination. Call it what you want, but it’s the difference between a guy with talent and a star. It’s the difference between a main eventer and a champion. People like me? There’s a reason I’m still here when so many others have come and gone. Because no matter what, no matter how the beating, no matter how devastating the loss, I stay standing. I turn back up. I don’t quit.
Lucas Crowe is a quitter. Lucas Crowe is a loser. Lucas Crowe is a f*cking coward.
See Crowe, I talked you up. I had your back. I invested time, money, effort, into you. And what did you do? You dropped out. You left. You took your ball and you went home. And you know what? It pissed me off! Because you wasted all of it. Your talent, my time, you wasted it. When there are so many people out there that wanted to be where you were, that would have killed to work with people like me and Drakz, and you wasted it. You god damn idiot! What gives you the right? You know there’s not a lot of people that I genuinely hate. I mean there’s plenty of people I want to hurt, there’s plenty of people I want to break, but there’s not a lot of people that I genuinely feel hatred boil up inside me because of.
But you? I hate you. What you did, what you wasted, it offends me. And I’ve never forgotten it. So you thought you could just walk away and you’d never have to deal with what you did? No. Because this is my ring, this is my company and this is my world and if you cross me then there is a price to pay. You thought you could just walk away? That I wouldn’t find you? That I wouldn’t take my pound of flesh? Well let me make it perfectly clear to you and to anyone else who thinks they can cross me and my bat.
There is no walking away from Trace Demon.
