New Dawn RP: How am I supposed to bake them a cake?

[Mr. PerpetuaLynch Motion]

Part 4: Tension

Walking back past the curtain after my tag team win at Ascension, I had never been filled with so many conflicting feelings. I was ecstatic that I had won the match but at the same time I was filled with rage directed squarely at my tag team partner. He was of absolutely no help in that match. As with everything else I have put up with in my life, I won that match by myself. I didn’t need his help. I don’t want his help. There were a couple of the veterans backstage that were there to congratulate me on the debut. Standing at the end of the line was my Tag Team partner, Johnny Hess. He stuck out his hand for a handshake; I couldn’t believe the audacity of him. I carried him to the second round of a Tag Team Title tournament. I did the hard work. I did the heavy lifting. My life hasn’t changed. I stared at his hands for a few moments as I tore off my wrist tape. Finally after a few moments, I looked Hess in the eye and walked right past him. I don’t want his congratulations. All the other boys back here? Sure, I’ll accept their adulation for the time being. But I don’t want his respect. It’s a weird thing to refuse the respect of another athlete but that’s just the kind of person I am. The only reason I’m not choking him out is because he is my associate in the path to Championship number one in the WFWF. And believe me, if I could stumble upon a loophole that lets me win the championship by myself, I will take it. Lone wolf. The Motor City Mercenary. Hess doesn’t sign my checks. I wander my way through the hallways of the arena before I finally make my way to the dressing room. A handful of the other boys look my way and give me a nod of appreciation. I may not have been doing it for as long as the rest of the people back here but they can appreciate someone who fights with a purpose. I have a purpose. My purpose is to provide a better life for myself. Justin Tyme has provided me a means to do that and all I have to do in return is deliver a couple of gold belts. Grabbing a towel that was hanging in the locker stall, I wipe the sweat from my face. I grab my phone from my gear bag so I can search for some music to cool down to. 2 missed text messages and 3 missed phone calls. The text messages are not necessarily surprising as I imagine that they would be from Justin and possibly from Kevin who happened to be watching tonight but who would have called me during my match? I slide my phone open and nearly drop it in surprise. One of the text messages was, in fact, from Justin Tyme. It read:

Congratulations Lucas. That’s step one towards your big pay day. I look forward to your return to the casa so we can go over step two.

The other message as well as all the missed phone calls might as well have come from a ghost. Other than our interaction out front of Kevin’s bar a couple days ago, I haven’t really had an actual conversation with my ex-girlfriend Amy Sanders in about 6 years. Her text message simply read:

Where the are you? Call me.

She’s always been straight to the point. But what in the hell could she possibly want now? She hasn’t exactly showed me much tender loving care in the last little while. What does it matter to her where I am? I distinctly remember her telling me once upon a time “We really wouldn’t care if you wound up at the bottom of the river.” Even still, I felt compelled to respond because deep down there is some foolish part of me that still clings to her. Almost like a faded picture of a past life. My text simply read:

Atlanta. Why?

I tossed my phone back into my bag as I prepared to start changing out of my wrestling gear. Almost immediately, however, a response shot back:

Why the are you in Atlanta? You need to call me right now.

I was honestly starting to feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. Like something was drastically wrong. There is no way that she would be so adamant about me calling her. I hadn’t talked to her on the phone since she broke up with me via telephone while I was in prison. I dialed her number, she answered almost immediately. I expected her tone to be abrasive since her text messages were coming across as such. Instead I was greeted by a hoarse voice, one that would come from someone that had either just been screaming or sobbing.

Lucas?

Yeah Amy, what’s up? You know the last time I talked to you on the ph-

There was another incident at Big Kev’s last night.

My heart felt like it sank into my stomach.

It was a shooting. One of the bouncers was killed.

My head was back to having a swarm of conflicting emotions and thoughts. I could hardly process any of the information that I was being told. For some reason words fell out of my mouth that I didn’t intend to say.

And you were hoping that bouncer was me?

You are still a selfish piece of crap! I was worried about you bunghole.

I seem to recall a desire for me to turn up in a river.

Yeah, there was a lot of crap said that night. By both of us. But you’re always going to be part of my life. Whether I like it or whether you like it. That’s just how things are.

Those words. Those words were ones I never thought I would ever hear coming from her mouth. Going to be a part of her life? I have been out of prison for how long now and the only reason I entered back into her life was pure happenstance. She doesn’t want to be part of my life at all. She’s a liar. Why would she say those words?

… Why are you in Atlanta?

I’m on a business trip. I got to go Amy. Thanks for calling.

Without even letting her say good bye in return I tapped the hang up icon. I can’t deal with this crap right now. Just when I’m about to set my life on a positive path and make something of myself, I refuse to let past mistakes drag me back into my past. Even though these thoughts were running through my head, I know she’s right. Our lives are always going to be permanently linked. After all, she is part of the reason that I am so adamant about making positive changes in my life. Part of the reason if not the entire reason. But I can’t think about her, not right now. I need to focus on step two. I grab my gear bag and my duster jacket and walk out the exit of the arena.

Part 5: Mission Control

No matter how many times I travel first class I don’t think I could ever get used to it. It’s just not who I am. An ex-convict that was raised on the streets of Detroit should not be flying first class. One could argue that he shouldn’t be flying at all. But Justin is the king of pulling strings when it comes to things like this. The plane landed at Miami, a rough landing might I add. Greeting me in the terminal, once again, was Jonathan, Justin’s chauffeur. He’s a stern looking older man that looks like he hates his job or he hates me. Possibly both. I greet him as he forces a smile and ushers me to the limousine that was going to take me to Justin’s estate. The ride to Justin’s place didn’t seem quite as long this time as it did last time. Perhaps it’s because time seems to stand still when Justin is talking to you. He’s got an unparalleled charisma, capable of talking anyone into leaving everything in their life behind to start completely anew. I didn’t give Jonathan a chance to open the limousine door for me; I’m not accustomed to the high life. I can open doors myself. I see Justin lounging in a sun chair out on the patio. He puts his sunglasses on and gives me a welcoming wave. For a man approaching his mid Forties he still appears to be in pretty decent shape. He pulls on one of his own t-shirts an comes down the steps to meet me at the limousine.

Ah my boy! I’m proud of you. Not many people have had a debut quite as impressive as yours. You know I lost my debut match however many years ago that was.

Thanks sir, means a lot coming from you.

Please Lucas, I told you don’t call me sir. It weirds me out. Just call me Justin.

I nod in acceptance or in agreement, I’m not really sure which. I’m still not super familiar with the man so I would really rather not overstep my boundaries.

Now come Lucas, we have much to discuss before the next show.

Actually Justin, I was wondering if it would be alright if I went back home for a couple days.

And what reason would you possibly have to desire going back to Detroit? You have a job to do, do you not?

The tone was chilling when he said it. I’ve never been scared of anyone in my life but there is something about this guy that doesn’t sit right with me. I catch myself thinking that even though he’s a strange one, he’s the one signing your checks so don’t rock the boat.

Yeah it’s just… um, I want to grab a few of my things from my apartment y’know?

He lets out a chuckle and puts his hand on my shoulder.

My friend that will prove to be an unnecessary travel. You see while you were in Atlanta I made some arrangements to have all of the belongings from your abode brought down here to Miami and you will find that it all got here perfectly intact. Please, follow me.

He puts his arm around my shoulder and ushers me towards his gigantic mansion. Once inside he takes an immediate left. As we walk along this enormous hallway I see all of Justin’s memorabilia hanging on the wall. Championships he won in other wrestling promotions, replica versions of the WFWF International and WFWF Tag Team Championships, T-shirts, posters. I’m beginning to think that there is no bigger fan of Justin Tyme than Justin Tyme. But if he continues to pay me for good work done then I suppose I can be his number two. We reach the end of the hallway and he hands me a key. I unlock the door and open it and am hit with the sight of an immaculately set up bachelor suite size room with all of my belongings already set up almost exactly how I had things set up back in Detroit.

I figured this way homesickness won’t be an unnecessary distraction from your ultimate goal.

I am almost overcome with emotion. No one has ever put this much stock in someone like me. No one. I can’t even look at the man because I want to hug him. After a few moments I regain my composure

Thank you Justin. Now. What’s step two?

I finally turn to look at him and he is grinning that sly grin that would be unsettling to any other person.

That, my friend we can discuss over dinner. Shall we?

He extends his arm directing me back down the hallway. As I pass him, he puts his hand on my shoulder again, ushering me along.

Part 6: If I can’t batter the women…

The image of our dinner must have looked like something out of a cartoon. At one end of the table sat Justin Tyme in his immaculate nightwear that included a velvet red over coat. All the way at the other end of the table, seemingly about a mile away, is where I sat looking entirely like I didn’t belong there. Justin was sipping on some sort of presumably expensive glass of wine, I don’t respond well to alcohol so I was sipping on some sort of presumably expensive glass of water. He slides a dossier all the way down the table to me.

That is step two my friend.

As I opened the folder it felt like my jaw fell off. It took me what felt like an eternity to process what I was reading. I can deal with saddling myself with a tag team to achieve his goal of the Tag Team championships. I can handle choking out all the guys on my way to the WFWF National, International and eventually the WFWF Heavyweight Championship. But I’m not sure I’m ok with this, especially not considering my past. The note inside the folder read as follows:

Step 2: Penny Shannon. Penny is a direct contrast to everything you are as a competitor. she has a tendency to speed up the action in the ring to get the momentum going her way. A few things that should play into your benefit however include the knowledge that she made her return at the last show after having been maimed with a piece of glass. She has one good eye available to her. Failing that, you are an almost seven foot tall behemoth. If you get a good hold on her she will not be able to fight your rear naked choke.

I felt my hands shaking. I pick up the photo and I had a flash in my head of a picture of Amy. I drop the picture back into the folder. I almost felt rage bubbling inside of me.

What the is this?

That’s step two my friend.

Bullcrap, this has nothing to do with getting you any championships.

Come now Lucas, every win is one step forward. You’re moving closer to attaining a great life for yourself.

By beating up a woman?

Well that is the idea, yes. You are a pro wrestler now after all Lucas. She’s signed to the match and she won’t be afraid to hit you just because you’re a man. She is a serious competitor.

I could not believe the words he was saying. I didn’t agree to this. This kind of thing was not part of the deal.

Justin, you do know tha-


You spent six years in prison. And yes I know what you were in there for. I do my research, I don’t just allow any vagabond from Detroit into my house without doing a few background checks.

Then you understand why this is such a hang up for me right?

Of course I do Lucas. But just like how I wanted to help you get over your attachment to the city of Detroit by moving all of your belongings here; I figure that the only way you are going to completely get over your past life and move forward with absolutely zero inhibitions is to have your second professional wrestling competition against a female.

I grab the photo again and actually look at it this time. This time though there was no image of Amy flashing before me. Instead I see a reasonably attractive woman with a patch over her right eye. I’m still conflicted inside but there is something even deeper inside of me that felt like a warm demon rising up. Before I knew it, I felt almost an unwarranted rage. I wasn’t even sure who it was directed at. Was it directed at Penny? Justin? Myself?

Alright Justin, I will take this match. I want you to know one thing though, I will not end this match with the choke. I refuse to choke out a girl.

You’re being a fool Lucas. Why limit the techniques available to you?

He had a good point. But when the time came would I ever be able to choke a woman out? I didn’t know if I completely believed my answer but I said it anyays.

You’re right. Alright if push comes to shove and I absolutely have to then I will finish it with the choke. But trust me, if an opportunity arises where I could end this match before it comes to that then I will do just that.

Justin nods his head and then gets that grin on his face again. For some reason this time that smile made me feel almost physically ill.

I understand Lucas. However don’t expect Penny to just hand you the opportunity to finish the match before it comes to needing to use that choke. In fact if I were a betting man then I would put my entire fortune on you needing to use that choke to finish this match. She’s an incredibly durable competitor. I don’t know many people who would ever come back from being stabbed in the eye with a shard of glass much less doing so within 5 months. And winning her debut match on top of it? Unreal.

Sounds like you would almost prefer to have her as your mercenary.

My comment wiped the smile away from his face and I briefly regretted my words. But after a few moments the smile returned to his face.

Of course not Lucas, I picked you for a very good reason. It’s just that I appreciate a good talent. It’s why I recruited you. I appreciate Penny Shannon for what she has been through and what she’s capable of. If you’re not careful then you will find out first hand and when it’s all said and done, you will learn to appreciate her talent too.

Fair enough. I fully intend to treat her on the same ground that I stand on. If she’s going to step back into the ring with the men then I will not be held responsible if she gets hurt. If I can’t batter the women…

I let my thought trail off. It was a lyric I had heard but I stopped myself before I could finish it. Whenever I’m around Justin Tyme it’s like I almost lose control of the words that fall out of my mouth. I did not intend to injure Penny but Justin has me believing that when it’s all said and done I may do exactly that. Justin sits back in his chair and pours himself another glass of wine. Justin’s kitchen staff emerge with a trolly full of food. They put a plate of lobster in front of me with a bowl of melted butter. I look up at Justin who is still smiling at me so I give him a smirk back.

Bon A petit Lucas.


Cheers Justin.

I raise my glass to him and dig into the best dinner I’ve ever been served in my life. An ex-convict should not be living like this… but I think I might be getting used to this.

OOC: I'm not sure if this is necessarily as good as my last one but I am quite happy with this one as well. I just couldn't settle into the same groove I did for my last one. But I hit all the points I wanted to sooo... Cheers! I edited it because apparently I can't count to 5 -_-

[Rated R]

I don't think there's a considerable drop off from your last piece exactly, this just felt more like you settling into the style of the character after the usual introductory debut piece. I still don't like the block paragraphs as much as I do when you're making things a big quicker because I think the snappier bits have a better flow to it. Aside from that there's some really good stuff here and you continue to fleshy out your cast of characters in an entertaining manner. Solid work man and if you can keep it up then I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes.