Post by Rated R on Apr 29, 2016 14:01:26 GMT -5
Brass Knuckles Nightclub
21st April 2016; 12:15am
Elinor Nix: Are you going to keep staring at that thing?
The “best heel” award or whatever they want to call it sits in front of me, like a testament to what the world thinks of me. Why does it even matter, why does it bother me so much?
Trace Demon: Am I a bad man Elinor?
Elinor Nix: This? Now? You’ve got Drakz coming any minute; you need to be on top of your game.
Trace Demon: I mean seriously? All I want to do is be successful, to live well, to build a life for my a family, to make the WFWF the titan it once was. Why does any of that make me this villain they paint me as?
Elinor’s radio buzzes, and I can’t help but think by her expression that she’s glad to have avoided the topic. Even my allies fear me the devil. Nina’s voice buzzes through. I think she’s called Nina. Or is it Kate? crap, no, it’s Becky. The one who doesn’t enjoy anal, that’s the one.
Becky: Elinor, is the boss expecting anyone?
Elinor Nix: I’ll see if it’s him. Get rid of that thing, will you?
Elinor takes her leave. I tuck the trophy into my bag and straighten myself up. Doesn’t matter which of them is here first, it’s time to put on my business face. I’m still playing a game after all, it’d be a shame to give away the rules this early. I take my seat again just as Elinor opens the door.
Elinor Nix: Boss? Drakz to see you.
Drakz: I could have said that.
I hear him before I see him, which comes as no surprise given that Drakz has always been more mouth than balls. There’s a joke there, but I’m above it. Drakz pushes past Elinor, shoving the door shut behind him, shutting Elinor out of proceedings. She’ll be stewing over that, but she’s smart enough to walk it off.
Now I could bore you with the details of this meeting, of how Drakz was cocky and arrogant, of how Justin Tyme turned up and was highly ineffective, but then I’d just be stating the obvious wouldn’t I? No, let’s skip forwards roughly fifteen minutes, to a time that actually matters. To a person that actually matters. Namely, me.
Elinor Nix: Everything in order?
With Drakz and Tyme having both taken their leave I’m left alone. Well, not quite alone I suppose. Elinor here’s, and so is this bloody trophy, still taunting me as I pull it out of the bag.
Elinor Nix: Boss, is everything in order?
Why does it matter what these people think of me? More importantly, are they right? Am I a bad man, and what does that even mean? Have I simple embraced the role they perceive me to be playing, or is this something else entirely.
Trace Demon: For the time being. Get the jet ready, we leave for Boston tomorrow morning. Oh, and Elinor?
I chuck her the award, which she barely manages to catch.
Trace Demon: Throw that thing in the river or something, will you? I’m sick of looking at it.
What Makes a Man?
A Trace Demon Roleplay
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel; Boston
22nd April 2016; 2:14am
Elinor has a fantastic ass. Sorry to start out that way, really, but these are the kind of things you think of when a girl’s ass is glistening right in front of you from the sweat developed through a good
. She’s lying on her front, checking her e-mails on her phone. The girl is all about e-mails. Well, business as a whole really. That’s probably a good thing given the fact I pay her to maintain my business.
Trace Demon: Your ass is fantastic.
She manages to pull away from her phone.
Elinor Nix: And you’re bleeding.
Trace Demon: What now?
Elinor Nix: Your head is bleeding, your stitches have torn.
Trace Demon: Aw thater.
I bound out of bed and check myself out in the bathroom mirror. She’s right, the stitches in my forehead have opened up, probably from where she was grabbing at my hair. Not her fault, wouldn’t even have these bloody things if Josh hadn’t cheap shotted my with that trophy. Bastard could have killed me. Still, got what he deserved, a nice bit of flesh right out of his forehead courtesy of my teeth.
Elinor Nix: Everything all right in there?
Trace Demon: Yeah, it’s nothing. Check in my bag for a needle and thread, will you? It’ll be in a small plastic box.
Elinor Nix: What? What for?
Trace Demon: Just do it.
I dab at the blood on my forehead with a damp but warm cloth. Slight sting, but I’ve wrestled with a shattered shoulder so complaining about open stitches is pointless. I keep the warm cloth to my forehead as I head back into the hotel’s bedroom. Elinor sits on the bed, still completely naked, no shame this one not that I’m complaining. She’s got a needle and thread in her hands and a confused look on her face.
Elinor Nix: Why do you have these in your bag?
Trace Demon: Because this isn’t the first time I’ve had stitches.
Elinor Nix: Oh no, I am not stitching you up.
Trace Demon: Are you joking? I mean you do good work with your hands sure but I’m not letting you near my head with a needle.s sake, I’m not crazy.
I pop open the hotel minibar and grab a bottle of vodka. Expensive stuff from the looks of things, gonna cost me a pretty penny. Half tempted to take it straight out of Josh’s wages, but I know I don’t pay him near enough to cover this.
Elinor Nix: Trace-
Trace Demon: Oh relax, as if I’d stoop to drinking this swill.
Never been much of a vodka man if I’m totally honest. I was always more of a whiskey drinker. But neither of those things are on the menu anymore. I grab a glass and fill it half-way. Despite my best efforts I can’t avoid the strong smell wafting up my nose. The Russians may have been good at war, but they never could figure out how to make vodka smell half-decent. With the glass half-full I pop the needle in.
Elinor Nix: Wait, you can’t seriously-
Trace Demon: Yep.
Once I’m satisfied that the needle’s not springing any surprises on me I thread it and head for the bathroom. Not the first time I’ve done this and it turns out threading is a whole ton easier when you’re sober. Elinor follows me in as I wash away the fresh blood and then begin to pull out the ripped thread in my forehead.
Elinor Nix: You cannot be serious.
Trace Demon: What do you mean?
Elinor Nix: I mean come on Trace, we’ll just go to the hospital or something.
Trace Demon: A hospital in Boston during the night shift? And here I was thinking you were the sensible one.
As the last of the thread comes out, I swear I hear a little popping sound as it does, I wash away the freshest coat of blood to start dripping down my face.
Elinor Nix: Let’s just call Doc Brown, I’m sure he’ll fly up or recommend someone who can-
Trace Demon: Elinor, nobody is forcing you to watch.
Elinor Nix: Fine, but if you poke an eye out then don’t come running to me. I’m not sleeping with a one eyed man.
Shame, there goes the pirate roleplay out the window. With Elinor gone I get to work, steadily placing the needle to the far end of the cut. She’s right of course, this is stupid… for anyone else. I grew up in a household where my father thought it was fun to lob bottles at my head. Mom was a nurse, so sometimes she’d stitch me up herself, but a lot of the time knocking me about would get Daddy dearest in the mood and Mom would get dragged off. I’ve been stitching myself up since I was nine years old, this doesn’t phase me much.
Still as I slowly push the needle through the flesh just above my eye I have one clear and very particular thought floating through my head.
Josh Dean’s gonna pay, and I sure as hell don’t mean for the vodka.
< *** >
The Paramount
23rd April 2016; 9:15am
You want to know the worst thing about travelling all over the world for these shows? No, it’s not the travel, or the fans, or even the smell of Boston, which is bad but not quite as bad as Brooklyn, thank god. No, the worst thing, by far, is pancakes. Even since I started having solids for breakfast rather than a bottle I’ve found that I agree with it being the most important meal of the day. Healthy body, healthy mind and all that crap.
But no matter where you go, no matter what part of the country or world, it’s hard to find pancakes as good as the ones at BLD back home. Luckily for me one of the things Boston does have going for it is The Paramount which, while not quite as good as BLD, isn’t half bad when it comes to pancakes.
Trace Demon: Can I get two more?
The waitress flashes me a smile and nods. Sadly she’s in her forties and past her sell by date, so I’ll just get the pancakes. I’m bloody starving. Turns out it’s hard to get back to sleep when you’ve spent part of the night stitching yourself up, not to mention the fact that the adrenaline was already spiking because of Elinor’s ass, so I ended up adding an extra two hours to my morning gym session.
As the waitress is serving up the goods, I’m talking pancakes, not the breasts she’s trying to shove in my face, I spot my breakfast guest heading for the table. There’s a hot redhead with him too, has to be what? Nineteen, twenty at a stretch? No way is she with Anders, the Gods don’t smile that kindly on anyone. And yet lo-and-behold she is. I see Anders tell her to wait where she is for a minute and then he heads my way.
Trace Demon: Anders, have you hired an assistant? On your wages?
Jason Anders: No, this is my… my daughter. This is Anna.
Trace Demon: You’re joking right?
Jason Anders: She and my wi… her mother live up here and when she heard I was coming down here she insisted on coming. I’m sorry, if you want her to leave then just say. I know how you are about breakfast.
Anna Anders? Well who would have thought it? Here I’ve been picturing Anders daughters as frumpy, hopeless, unlucky saps just like their dad. And yet Anna here could probably lead men to war with those legs. What? Don’t judge me. The girls skirt, free flowing, not tight, just how I like it, leaves them on full display. And that’s before we even get to the long red hair, perfectly formed lips and… well, perfectly formed everything else for that matter.
Plus, if I remember correctly (and when it comes to these things I always do) Anders once said that Anna was nineteen, which means one thing.
Trace Demon: Just don’t let her ruin my pancakes.
Pancakes over whores though. That’s definitely a thing. Anders signals for Anna to join us and I make sure not to objectify her by staring at her legs as she heads over. I fail.
Anna Anders: Thank you so much, I hear the pancakes here are to die for.
Trace Demon: I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe to kill for. Maybe. Sit, both of you.
They do. I’m pretty sure Anna makes sure to sit opposite me and lean forward just enough for me to see down her top. I’m a gentleman so I try my hardest not to look at the perky teen tits being flaunted in front of me. I fail.
Trace Demon: Two more plates, same over for my friends here.
The waitress smiles and nods and heads for the kitchen. Anders sits awkwardly in the window seat of the booth, and I feel like he definitely did not want to bring Anna here.
Trace Demon: You alright if I talk business with your dad?
Anna Anders: Oh go right ahead. I’m just here for the pancakes.
The foot rubbing up my leg and the grin on her face say otherwise. At least, I hope that’s her leg, unless Anders is finally giving in to his homoerotic feelings.
Trace Demon: So?
Jason Anders: His contract’s iron clad Trace. Justin Tyme is as much Crowe’s owner as he is his manager. There’s no cutting him out of things on our end. Only way is if-
Trace Demon: Wait, you can keep a secret right? What is said at breakfast stays at breakfast.
Anna Anders: Oh don’t worry, my lips are sealed.
I do not miss the way she says that, and with her foot rapidly nearing my crotch I’m more than a little relieved when the not-so-Mrs Robinson brings two more plates of pancakes over for the Anders’ father and daughter duo. Anna’s eyes light up when she sees the pancakes and, for the time being, my cock is forgotten about. Which, in a rare event, is a relief, because talking business is considerably more difficult when you’ve got their daughter trying to give you a foot job.
Anna Anders: Oh my god these look so good!
Jason Anders: As I was saying, the only way to separate Tyme from Crowe is if Crowe severs the partnership. If you do anything to tamper with it from a contract standpoint then we won’t have a leg to stand on.
Trace Demon: So you’re telling me that if I want to keep Lucas Crowe on side then I’m stuck with Tyme and those two other weirdos?
Jason Anders: That’s how it looks. Say what you want about Justin Tyme but he has a pretty solid contract lawyer on side.
Trace Demon: That won’t do. Not at all.
Anna Anders: You know what would make these better? Maple syrup!
Trace Demon: Over by the cutlery.
Anna runs off and yes, I again fail at eyeing up her legs, you get the gist my now. Worryingly so does Anders, because when I look back at him he’s staring bullets through me.
Trace Demon: What?
Jason Anders: Do not try and sleep with my daughter.
Trace Demon: Anders, I wouldn’t-
He looks at me, and I realize I’m talking to a man who knows what kind of guy I am.
Trace Demon: Fine. I will not sleep with your daughter.
Both of us sit in slightly awkward silence as Anna half-skips half-runs back to the table. She smiles as she pours maple syrup over the pancakes and I immediately wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake with my promise.
Come on Trace, focus on business, not on boobs.
Trace Demon: So, you were saying there’s another way round the Justin Tyme problem?
Jason Anders: Right, if Crowe severs the partnership personally, then there’s nothing Tyme can do from a legal standpoint. At least not to us.
Trace Demon: Now that… that I can work with.
< *** >
TD Garden
23rd April 2016; 2:42pm
Trace Demon: No we’re gonna need the pyro set up along here before he comes out. I don’t want us to look amateur Gordy, you know that.
One of the things they don’t tell you about running a global, multi-million pound wrestling company is that it takes a lot of work, and I’m not just talking paperwork here. For our pay per views the stage crew can be working away weeks in advance to set everything up and make it look as good as possible. Take the Garden for instance, the show’s two weeks off and they’ve been working since first thing this morning.
That is also why I’m in Boston so far in advance.
Gordy: I know boss, it’s just we can save some cash if we-
Trace Demon: You know the money isn’t a problem. The sponsors like the spectacle of these things, they’re happy to shell out a little extra. And I’m more than happy to take that little extra. Make it big, make it loud, make it worth watching, got it?
Gordy: Got it boss.
Lucas Crowe: Didn’t think you’d be so hands on.
Trace Demon: Didn’t think you’d show kid, short notice and all. Sorry about that.
Lucas Crowe: I was already in town, getting the scope of things.
Trace Demon: Good, I like that, keeps you from getting overwhelmed. Walk with me, mind the gaps though, don’t want you hurting yourself.
We start making our way down the half-built ramp, having to be careful not to fall into pits of cabling where they haven’t sealed over yet.
Lucas Crowe: Weird seeing the place like this, usually it’s all made up by the time I get in. Feels wrong.
Trace Demon: It’s all just a frame right now, helps them get the feel for the place, figure out the space and how they can use it. There’s a lot of stuff about angles that I don’t care enough about to understand, but you get the picture.
We reach the centre of the arena. There’s a makeshift ring set up so they can make sure that the final thing will fit and they’ve got enough room between it and the barricades. That kind of stuff.
Lucas Crowe: Again, didn’t think you’d be so hands on. I figured you were like the rest of us and just came in, wrestled and flew to the next place.
Trace Demon: One of the earliest things I learnt is that if you want to do well in life then you don’t rely on other people to make things happen. I take pride in the WFWF, no matter what anyone else wants to tell you, so if I want this show to look good then I come out here and I make sure it looks good. They up and, whether I’m here or not, it reflects badly on me. So I make sure I’m here, and I make sure they don’t it all up.
I climb up onto the canvas, no rings in place yet. Crowe climbs up after me.
Trace Demon: Look at this place Crowe.
He looks around, and I can see it kind of clicking into place for him.
Trace Demon: You see how big this place really is? How much space is in here? How empty it all feels?
He nods, his attention still taken by the scope of it all.
Trace Demon: In a couple of weeks this place is going to be full to the brim, all of this space, all the emptiness, it’ll be gone, replaced by people who want to see us. That’s why they come here Crowe, not for guys like us, but for us. For me. For Drakz. Hell, whether you like them or not, even for Josh and Sam. We’re the elite. We’re the stadium fillers, the crowd pleasers, whether they like us or hate us they still buy tickets because they are enthralled by us.
He looks at me now, and I know it’s that moment. That moment I’ve perfected so well. The moment where you know that you’re words are the only things that matter, that everything else, everyone else, is nothing more than background noise.
Trace Demon: You want to be in that list of names, right?
Lucas Crowe: That’s why I’m here. I mean the money, sure, that’s part of it, but the glory. People chanting your name-
Trace Demon: Gives you shivers, right? Makes you feel important? You know why? Because it makes you important. Being able to fill an arena, being able to get people to spend their time sitting in those seats, spending their money to watch us, that makes you important. It makes you rich. It makes you powerful. There’s not a person out there worth anything that doesn’t want that feeling. You know how you do that?
Lucas Crowe: You win.
Trace Demon: Nah, you don’t win, you be better than everybody else. That’s what really makes people important Crowe, because they’re better than everybody else. Not just here, in this ring, but everywhere. You ever lost a girl to someone else? It’s because that somebody else was better than you. Maybe not nicer, maybe not kinder, maybe not richer or better looking or smarter or any of that crap. They’re better. That’s it, that’s what matters. Everyone likes to throw around the words heel or villain or even evil but the truth is I don’t consider myself any of those things, I just consider myself better, and more importantly I make sure that I’m better. By any means necessary. The reason I’m here helping set this place up is because being better means you do anything it takes to stay that way. Everyone I’ve ever helped or hurt, everyone I’ve ever done anything to I’ve done it in the pursuit of being better than everybody else. You see those guys?
He looks towards the stage where Gordy and the boys potter about with cables and panelling and everything else.
Trace Demon: I’m here working right alongside them, but not one of them thinks they’re on my level, because I don’t let them. Not one of them thinks, down deep inside them, that they’re as good as me, because I make sure that they’re not. That’s the reason I win Crowe, that’s the reason I’m a grand slam winner, a hall of fame member, hell, that’s the reason I’m rich and successful and have the life that I want to have. Because I do everything it takes to make sure that I am better than anyone else that steps in my way. You know what I think when I look at you? I see a man with potential, but I also see a man being held down.
Lucas Crowe: Justin.
Trace Demon: Bingo. Justin Tyme knows how to play the game Lucas, he wants to be one of the elite too, but he knows he can’t do it in this ring anymore so he’s doing it through you. And that means he will always be better than you, because as long as you’re with him you will forever be known as Justin Tyme’s guy.
Lucas Crowe: And what, you want me to be your guy instead? Is that it?
Trace Demon: No, you’d just be in the same spot you’re in now, but worse, because I’m far above Tyme’s level. Me and Drakz, we’re using you, just like you’re using us and we’re using each other. We’re doing whatever it takes to make sure we stay better than everyone else, I’m not gonna deny that. But you remember what I said, about relying on people?
Lucas Crowe: You don’t.
Trace Demon: Exactly. I’m using you and Drakz, but I’m not relying on either of you. I’d be in the exact same position I’m in now without either of you, it’d just be that little bit harder. Why make things harder on yourself, eh? Truth is Crowe the reason I’m telling you all of this isn’t for you, it’s for me. I want to keep using you until the time comes when one of us get in the others way, and then we’ll come to blows. That’s inevitable; it’s the way it works. There are only so many spots at the top and we can’t all have them. But until that time comes I want you to be as effective and useful to me as possible, I want you to be the best version of you that you can be. I figure in that regards we both want the same thing, right?
He doesn’t say anything, but we both know the answer.
Trace Demon: Being Justin Tyme’s guy is not going to help you be better Crowe, it’s just going to drag you down. That makes life harder for me, which is why I’m not bullcrapting you right now. Think about it and, if you’re as smart as I think you are, get rid of him. Might speed up our eventual knocking of heads sure, but until then it’ll keep me on top, where I deserve to be. Where you deserve to be too. Basically what I’m saying is if you want to be the best then it’s time you start doing what I did long ago. It’s time you start doing whatever it takes, even if that something isn’t particularly nice to somebody else.
I hop down from the edge of the ring. Crowe stays inside, mulling everything over.
Trace Demon: When it comes down it Crowe you’re only living your life, not anybody else’s so really, what do they matter?!
It’s his job to come to the right answer of course, but I’ll let you all in on it anyway. Simply put, they don’t matter, not one bit.
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel
23rd April 2016; 11:15pm
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, checking over my handiwork. The stitches have held nicely, probably better than the originals if I’m being honest with myself. Always have been good with my hands, just ask your sister. What? Too immature? Who gives a crap, I’m Trace Demon, I do what I want.
There’s a knock at the door, which is weird because I thought Elinor was dealing with her own crap tonight, and I definitely haven’t had the time to find myself some late night accompaniment. Still, I throw on a top and grab the door in hopes that maybe it’s a pleasant surprise. What I find standing there is a stunning nineteen year old redhead in a short skirt. So yes, pleasant surprise indeed.
Trace Demon: What are you… how did you even-
Anna Anders: It’s not that difficult to get a room number from the guy at reception.
Well not when you look like that, no. I think back to the promise I made Anders. I get where he’s coming from, if Emily came home with me in tow I’d be reaching straight for the nearest blunt object and preparing my alibi. As a fellow father I’m sympathetic towards it distaste, I really am.
Trace Demon: Come on in.
I just don’t really care all that much. Anna saunters in, her hips swaying rhythmically as she does so. She removes her jacket, a form fitting top lies beneath, and I can’t help but notice her skirt rides up a little as she leans against the edge of the sofa.
Anna Anders: I was gonna go all little black dress, but I figured comfort wins over slutiness.
Trace Demon: You realize your dad would not approve of this whole thing, right?
Anna Anders: My dad’s a loser. Plus he still thinks I’m his sweet little girl, I can do what I want and he’ll just forgive me the moment I give him the look.
She gives me a demonstration of ‘the look’ and for a brief moment it turns me off. It’s the sweet little girl look, the sweet smile and fluttering eyelashes. Then she laughs this devilish bloody laugh and all the blood rushes downstairs again.
Trace Demon: I’m afraid I’m not so lucky. You’re dad’s a friend of mine you know.
She brushes her hand against my arm as I walk past her towards the hotel room’s little built in kitchen. I think it hurts her ego a little bit that I didn’t go weak at the knees, because she follows me in. When I close the fridge door, bottle of water in hand, she’s leant against the counter and the skirt’s definitely gotten higher up the thigh. Another inch and there’ll be nothing left to the imagination.
Anna Anders: Friend seems like a bit of a stretch from the vibe I got at breakfast.
She’s right of course, Anders is an employee, but he’s one that I trust. Not on the same level I trust Elinor, but I can give him a job and he’ll usually get it done. That’s the closest I have to friends when it comes down to it.
Trace Demon: Regardless, I promised him I wouldn’t touch you.
She steps forward and before I know what’s happening her hand is pressed against my crotch, slightly squeezing. It’s a power play, a good one at that.
Anna Anders: I didn’t promise anything.
Despite the pleasure down south I manage to pull away and walk off towards the sitting room. I sip on the water like we’re playing some messed up game of cat and mouse. Only if she gets her way then everybody gets eaten.
Trace Demon: What makes you think that I’m that kind of guy eh? What makes you think I’d just go behind your dad’s back like that?
Anna Anders: Let’s not pretend I’m some sweet, naïve little girl. You’re the type of guy who knows what he wants and takes it, right? I could feel that a mile off. The moment I sat down at that table I could tell that you take what you want regardless of what it means for everybody else. I like that. I like it a lot.
Makes sense when you break it down. It’s the same thing every girl her age has. Daddy issues. I’m the opposite of Anders, and that does it for her.
Anna Anders: I like a man who takes what he wants.
She takes a slow, methodical step forward. She wants me to look at her, to take her body in, but I stay focused on her eyes. Even in a situation like this I’m not going to give up the power. That’s not what I do.
Anna Anders: I like a man who takes control.
Another step forward.
Anna Anders: And I like a man who does whatever he wants to whoever he wants.
One more step and she’s so close I can feel her breath.
Anna Anders: So what do you want? To be a good person? Or me?
She pulls away from me and heads towards the bedroom, pulling her top off and throwing it to the floor as she goes. So what do I want? To be a good person? To do the honourable thing? Or to take what I want and everybody else?
I mean let’s be honest.
That’s not a tough choice at all.
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel
26th April 2016; 11:11pm
I finish with a final thrust, feeling myself empty inside her as she clenches. What? Nobody ever said I was family friendly.
Anna’s spent every night here since she turned up at the door. She arrives around nine, leaves by two, tells her mom that she was out clubbing with friends. I don’t ask how she avoids the awkward topic of why she’s come back with sticky clothes more than once. Not my place when you think about it.
Anna Anders: That was fun. You ordered food up, right?
Trace Demon: Yeah, should be here by half past.
Anna Anders: Awesome, I’m gonna jump in the shower. Feel free to join me if you want.
I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know she’s using me. Fancy nights in a hotel, fancy food, sex on demand. Who cares really? People use each other, it’s how things work, the smart ones are the people who get things out of it. It’s what separates me from the likes of Josh and Sam. Josh’s marriage is crumbling, Sam has some daughter with some woman I don’t care about and I’m here sleeping with a nineteen year old. Way I see it I’m the only winner right now.
I’m about to take her up on her offer when there’s a knock at the door. Don’t you just hate it when room service is early? I grab a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and get the door.
This surprise is not as pleasant as the last one.
Jason Anders: Where is she?
He storms into the room, which if you ask me is a bit rude but I’ll give him a pass just this once. Circumstances and all.
Trace Demon: I have no-
Jason Anders: Oh shut up Trace. Her mom told me she’d been out every night since that breakfast, so I called at the hotel and they said you were busy with a guest. And it sure as hell hasn’t been Elinor because I tried her too and she told me you were busy with business.
Trace Demon: I don’t know why you immediately assumed she’d be with me. I mean that’s kind of rude.
Jason Anders: Because I know you Trace! Because I’ve spent more than ten minutes in your company!
That’d be rude if it wasn’t so true.
Anna Anders: Dad?
You know that moment you think nothing can make a moment any more awkward and then their daughter turns up in the bedroom doorway wearing just a towel? What, you don’t know that moment? Lucky son of a bitch.
Jason Anders: Get dressed and come with me, we’re leaving.
Anna Anders: I’ll pass.
Jason Anders: You’ll wh-
She closes the bedroom door before he can even get the sentence out. That’s got to sting. Wait, why is he turning towards me? He can’t possibly blame me for… wait, no, yes he can.
Jason Anders: You bunghole! You gave me your word! Oh why am I surprised, your word is worth absolutely nothing. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you, you disgusting son of a bitch. What, you thought it was funny? Sleep with my daughter and laugh about it behind my back?
Trace Demon: I promise you there has been very little mention of your name. And it was never your back I was behind.
Okay, that might have been too far even for me.
Jason Anders: You think this is funny? You think anybody is laughing with you? No Trace, they’re not, they’re laughing at you. You’re that thirty year old guy sleeping with a nineteen year old because anybody your own age can instantly see what a selfish piece of crap you are. If she wasn’ting dead then Alexa-
One punch sends him down.
Trace Demon: You pushed it too far. You don’t talk about her, understand? You don’ting talk about her!
Jason Anders: She’d think you were pathetic right now.
A boot straight to the ribs shuts him up quick enough.
Before I know what I’m doing I’ve stormed into the bedroom. Anna is asking something but I don’t hear what. She’s white noise. I grab the bottle of vodka and the glass from out of the minibar and fill it to the brim. I slam the door shut behind me as I walk back into the sitting room. Anna doesn’t follow me. Anders is struggling up onto his feet. He sees the glass.
Jason Anders: So you’re drinking again.
Trace Demon: It’s for you you ungrateful dick.
I shove the glass into his hands, some of the vodka spilling onto his cheap shirt. Instead of drinking it, as any guest with any manners should do, he places it down on the table. His eye is already swelling a little from the punch, that’s gonna be black tomorrow.
Jason Anders: You don’t get to talk yourself out of this one.
Trace Demon: When are you going to accept that this whole world is not your pity parade Anders? I slept with your daughter, so what? Your wife left you, so what? Your daughter doesn’t respect you, who cares? When are you going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start doing something about it, eh? Look at this.
I point at the stitches in my forehead. Still not quite healed enough to get rid of them yet, Josh got me good.
Trace Demon: You think when Josh hit me with that trophy I just sat down and started crying? No, I savoured the taste of his blood on my tongue and I promised to end him. I promised myself I was going to rip him apart because that is what a real person does.
Jason Anders: That’s what a psycho does Trace. You’re not right in the head.
I hear myself laugh before I even know I’ve done it.
Trace Demon: You’re just like the rest. Just like Josh and Sam and Lila and everyone else who thinks that just because I them over they’ve got a right to cry about it. I can them over because they’re too busy crying about it, you understand? If one of them, just one, had the balls to put me down properly then I wouldn’t be able to do anything, would I? But I can, because they don’t. Because they’re too busy pissing and bitching about me to actually do anything about me. There’s a reason I’m still standing while everyone else has come and gone. Because unlike you I am not afraid to do what I want.
Jason Anders: Even though what you want hurts other people?
What a stupid question.
Trace Demon: Who cares about other people? Not me, I’m smarter than that.
Jason Anders: She really picked herself a winner with you, didn’t she.
Trace Demon: A winner? Yeah Jason, she did.
He shakes his head, wants to keep arguing, to keep screaming and shouting, but he doesn’t know what to say. Sums him up perfectly if you ask me. Instead of doing what he should do he ends up storming out, slamming the door shut behind him. The moment he leaves the bedroom door opens, Anna standing in it.
Trace Demon: Aren’t you going to go after him?
Anna Anders: I’d rather stay with you.
Hah. Of course you would.
I’m aing god.
< *** >
There is a feeling among the WFWF that I am a villain. The great Trace Demon, a monster of a man. It’s laughable really. It’s also a bit pathetic, but I understand. It’s hard not to hate something that’s so much better than you. It’s hard not to hate someone who does exactly what you wish you could do. That’s only human, right? So no, I don’t blame any of you for trying to make me out to be the worst person in the world. It’s fine, really. That’s your prerogative. What I have a problem with is this feeling everyone seems to have that I’m the bad guy and Josh Dean is some shining knight here to vanquish me. Insert your own crapty metaphor but the point stands.
And again I don’t have this problem because of some pain over being made out to be the bad guy. I don’t, honestly I don’t give a crap. What I have a problem with is that somehow the world thinks that a man who goes out and gets what he wants and lives a happy life is a bad guy while someone with a failing marriage who can’t even look after his wife when they were stable is someone to be celebrated. I just don’t understand. I mean the way I see it, the way it is for me, is that Josh Dean is trying to tear my life apart out of some… I don’t know, jealousy I guess?
Josh Dean has been going out of his way for months, I mean longer even, trying to make me out to be a bad guy while he goes about attacking me, bad mouthing me, allying with the woman trying to destroy my company when all I want to do is live my life the way I want to live it. I mean if Josh was really a good guy then surely he should have been more preoccupied with helping Nikki and trying to save his marriage than with coming after me, right? I mean tell me if I’m wrong but that seems like the good guy thing to do. So then we get into the matter of whether Josh is a good guy because in my eyes he isn’t which then takes us to the question of why you all think he is.
I mean the answer is simple right? The answer’s always been simple. From the very day that I started in this business the answer’s been staring me right in the face and I guess I had some hope that people were good so I didn’t want to believe it but… I mean there comes a point you’ve just got to accept it. See the reason everyone thinks I’m a bad guy is because I’m everything they’re not. It’s because I’m willing to do anything to make sure I’m the best version of me that I can be and because I’m willing to do things that they’re not to get what I want. So you paint me as this villain just because I’m happy and because I’m thriving and because you wish that you had the guts and the courage to go out and really take hold of what you want.
See there’s a reason that right now Josh Dean isn’t the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion and that’s because me and Drakz were willing to go further than he was to keep that title around Drakz’s waist. There’s a reason that right now Samael Ahriman isn’t the WFWF National Champion and yes, that’s because me and Lucas Crowe were willing to go further then he was to keep that title. And so because we’re willing to do what you’re not that makes us bad people, right? That’s how it works. And hence because I’m willing to do more than anybody else to make sure that I get what I want that makes me the number one heel in the WFWF, right?
So now on the opposite side of the coin. Josh Dean is the number one face, the best good guy, the purest of the pure in the WFWF, right? That’s why you voted for him, that’s why he got that award, because he’s a good guy. Whereas in my eyes Josh Dean is pathetic. He’s a loser. He’s a failure, a nobody, worth nothing to me, to Nikki Dean, to you people. He’s a bad role model for your kids, and for his in fact. But you still love him because he’s like you. He’ll go so far but when it gets tough, when he has to make hard choices, he runs the other way and in turn he doesn’t get what he wants. A wife who loves him? No. A family who embraces him? No. Friends he can rely on? No. The WFWF World Heavyweight Championship?
No.
Josh Dean is a face, because a face is someone who doesn’t quite get the job done because he’s too busy worrying about what people think. I am a heel because a heel is someone who does whatever it takes and gets the job done no matter what anybody thinks of him. So if that’s how it works then I’m happy to be the number one heel in the WFWF, because that means I get to be the owner, I get to hold titles, I get to be on top of cards, I get to be the most important man in the company. And outside of it I get the girls I want, I get the money that I deserve; I get the respect and the fear of people. If that is what I get for being a so called heel then that is what I will be because that is the only thing that matters.
Josh, we step foot inside that cage in Boston and it’s just me and you. The top face vs. the top heel. Big time match, right? But the truth is that no matter what by the time the bell rings I’m still going to have everything that I already had, the power, the girls, the money, the elite status in the company, and you’re still going to have everything that you had. The respect of the people and… nothing else. I know which side I’d rather be on. But really it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you can win this match, because this match comes down to who is willing to go the furthest to win, to get what they want and what they deserve. And I think we’ve proven by this point that you are not willing to do that. But I am.
I’m willing to do anything it takes.
I am the top heel of the WFWF. I am a winner. I am a god.
The time for talk is over. The time to take what I want is now. And what I want… is your broken body beneath by boot.
21st April 2016; 12:15am
Elinor Nix: Are you going to keep staring at that thing?
The “best heel” award or whatever they want to call it sits in front of me, like a testament to what the world thinks of me. Why does it even matter, why does it bother me so much?
Trace Demon: Am I a bad man Elinor?
Elinor Nix: This? Now? You’ve got Drakz coming any minute; you need to be on top of your game.
Trace Demon: I mean seriously? All I want to do is be successful, to live well, to build a life for my a family, to make the WFWF the titan it once was. Why does any of that make me this villain they paint me as?
Elinor’s radio buzzes, and I can’t help but think by her expression that she’s glad to have avoided the topic. Even my allies fear me the devil. Nina’s voice buzzes through. I think she’s called Nina. Or is it Kate? crap, no, it’s Becky. The one who doesn’t enjoy anal, that’s the one.
Becky: Elinor, is the boss expecting anyone?
Elinor Nix: I’ll see if it’s him. Get rid of that thing, will you?
Elinor takes her leave. I tuck the trophy into my bag and straighten myself up. Doesn’t matter which of them is here first, it’s time to put on my business face. I’m still playing a game after all, it’d be a shame to give away the rules this early. I take my seat again just as Elinor opens the door.
Elinor Nix: Boss? Drakz to see you.
Drakz: I could have said that.
I hear him before I see him, which comes as no surprise given that Drakz has always been more mouth than balls. There’s a joke there, but I’m above it. Drakz pushes past Elinor, shoving the door shut behind him, shutting Elinor out of proceedings. She’ll be stewing over that, but she’s smart enough to walk it off.
Now I could bore you with the details of this meeting, of how Drakz was cocky and arrogant, of how Justin Tyme turned up and was highly ineffective, but then I’d just be stating the obvious wouldn’t I? No, let’s skip forwards roughly fifteen minutes, to a time that actually matters. To a person that actually matters. Namely, me.
Elinor Nix: Everything in order?
With Drakz and Tyme having both taken their leave I’m left alone. Well, not quite alone I suppose. Elinor here’s, and so is this bloody trophy, still taunting me as I pull it out of the bag.
Elinor Nix: Boss, is everything in order?
Why does it matter what these people think of me? More importantly, are they right? Am I a bad man, and what does that even mean? Have I simple embraced the role they perceive me to be playing, or is this something else entirely.
Trace Demon: For the time being. Get the jet ready, we leave for Boston tomorrow morning. Oh, and Elinor?
I chuck her the award, which she barely manages to catch.
Trace Demon: Throw that thing in the river or something, will you? I’m sick of looking at it.
What Makes a Man?
A Trace Demon Roleplay
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel; Boston
22nd April 2016; 2:14am
Elinor has a fantastic ass. Sorry to start out that way, really, but these are the kind of things you think of when a girl’s ass is glistening right in front of you from the sweat developed through a good
. She’s lying on her front, checking her e-mails on her phone. The girl is all about e-mails. Well, business as a whole really. That’s probably a good thing given the fact I pay her to maintain my business.Trace Demon: Your ass is fantastic.
She manages to pull away from her phone.
Elinor Nix: And you’re bleeding.
Trace Demon: What now?
Elinor Nix: Your head is bleeding, your stitches have torn.
Trace Demon: Aw that
er.I bound out of bed and check myself out in the bathroom mirror. She’s right, the stitches in my forehead have opened up, probably from where she was grabbing at my hair. Not her fault, wouldn’t even have these bloody things if Josh hadn’t cheap shotted my with that trophy. Bastard could have killed me. Still, got what he deserved, a nice bit of flesh right out of his forehead courtesy of my teeth.
Elinor Nix: Everything all right in there?
Trace Demon: Yeah, it’s nothing. Check in my bag for a needle and thread, will you? It’ll be in a small plastic box.
Elinor Nix: What? What for?
Trace Demon: Just do it.
I dab at the blood on my forehead with a damp but warm cloth. Slight sting, but I’ve wrestled with a shattered shoulder so complaining about open stitches is pointless. I keep the warm cloth to my forehead as I head back into the hotel’s bedroom. Elinor sits on the bed, still completely naked, no shame this one not that I’m complaining. She’s got a needle and thread in her hands and a confused look on her face.
Elinor Nix: Why do you have these in your bag?
Trace Demon: Because this isn’t the first time I’ve had stitches.
Elinor Nix: Oh no, I am not stitching you up.
Trace Demon: Are you joking? I mean you do good work with your hands sure but I’m not letting you near my head with a needle.
s sake, I’m not crazy.I pop open the hotel minibar and grab a bottle of vodka. Expensive stuff from the looks of things, gonna cost me a pretty penny. Half tempted to take it straight out of Josh’s wages, but I know I don’t pay him near enough to cover this.
Elinor Nix: Trace-
Trace Demon: Oh relax, as if I’d stoop to drinking this swill.
Never been much of a vodka man if I’m totally honest. I was always more of a whiskey drinker. But neither of those things are on the menu anymore. I grab a glass and fill it half-way. Despite my best efforts I can’t avoid the strong smell wafting up my nose. The Russians may have been good at war, but they never could figure out how to make vodka smell half-decent. With the glass half-full I pop the needle in.
Elinor Nix: Wait, you can’t seriously-
Trace Demon: Yep.
Once I’m satisfied that the needle’s not springing any surprises on me I thread it and head for the bathroom. Not the first time I’ve done this and it turns out threading is a whole ton easier when you’re sober. Elinor follows me in as I wash away the fresh blood and then begin to pull out the ripped thread in my forehead.
Elinor Nix: You cannot be serious.
Trace Demon: What do you mean?
Elinor Nix: I mean come on Trace, we’ll just go to the hospital or something.
Trace Demon: A hospital in Boston during the night shift? And here I was thinking you were the sensible one.
As the last of the thread comes out, I swear I hear a little popping sound as it does, I wash away the freshest coat of blood to start dripping down my face.
Elinor Nix: Let’s just call Doc Brown, I’m sure he’ll fly up or recommend someone who can-
Trace Demon: Elinor, nobody is forcing you to watch.
Elinor Nix: Fine, but if you poke an eye out then don’t come running to me. I’m not sleeping with a one eyed man.
Shame, there goes the pirate roleplay out the window. With Elinor gone I get to work, steadily placing the needle to the far end of the cut. She’s right of course, this is stupid… for anyone else. I grew up in a household where my father thought it was fun to lob bottles at my head. Mom was a nurse, so sometimes she’d stitch me up herself, but a lot of the time knocking me about would get Daddy dearest in the mood and Mom would get dragged off. I’ve been stitching myself up since I was nine years old, this doesn’t phase me much.
Still as I slowly push the needle through the flesh just above my eye I have one clear and very particular thought floating through my head.
Josh Dean’s gonna pay, and I sure as hell don’t mean for the vodka.
< *** >
The Paramount
23rd April 2016; 9:15am
You want to know the worst thing about travelling all over the world for these shows? No, it’s not the travel, or the fans, or even the smell of Boston, which is bad but not quite as bad as Brooklyn, thank god. No, the worst thing, by far, is pancakes. Even since I started having solids for breakfast rather than a bottle I’ve found that I agree with it being the most important meal of the day. Healthy body, healthy mind and all that crap.
But no matter where you go, no matter what part of the country or world, it’s hard to find pancakes as good as the ones at BLD back home. Luckily for me one of the things Boston does have going for it is The Paramount which, while not quite as good as BLD, isn’t half bad when it comes to pancakes.
Trace Demon: Can I get two more?
The waitress flashes me a smile and nods. Sadly she’s in her forties and past her sell by date, so I’ll just get the pancakes. I’m bloody starving. Turns out it’s hard to get back to sleep when you’ve spent part of the night stitching yourself up, not to mention the fact that the adrenaline was already spiking because of Elinor’s ass, so I ended up adding an extra two hours to my morning gym session.
As the waitress is serving up the goods, I’m talking pancakes, not the breasts she’s trying to shove in my face, I spot my breakfast guest heading for the table. There’s a hot redhead with him too, has to be what? Nineteen, twenty at a stretch? No way is she with Anders, the Gods don’t smile that kindly on anyone. And yet lo-and-behold she is. I see Anders tell her to wait where she is for a minute and then he heads my way.
Trace Demon: Anders, have you hired an assistant? On your wages?
Jason Anders: No, this is my… my daughter. This is Anna.
Trace Demon: You’re joking right?
Jason Anders: She and my wi… her mother live up here and when she heard I was coming down here she insisted on coming. I’m sorry, if you want her to leave then just say. I know how you are about breakfast.
Anna Anders? Well who would have thought it? Here I’ve been picturing Anders daughters as frumpy, hopeless, unlucky saps just like their dad. And yet Anna here could probably lead men to war with those legs. What? Don’t judge me. The girls skirt, free flowing, not tight, just how I like it, leaves them on full display. And that’s before we even get to the long red hair, perfectly formed lips and… well, perfectly formed everything else for that matter.
Plus, if I remember correctly (and when it comes to these things I always do) Anders once said that Anna was nineteen, which means one thing.
Trace Demon: Just don’t let her ruin my pancakes.
Pancakes over whores though. That’s definitely a thing. Anders signals for Anna to join us and I make sure not to objectify her by staring at her legs as she heads over. I fail.
Anna Anders: Thank you so much, I hear the pancakes here are to die for.
Trace Demon: I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe to kill for. Maybe. Sit, both of you.
They do. I’m pretty sure Anna makes sure to sit opposite me and lean forward just enough for me to see down her top. I’m a gentleman so I try my hardest not to look at the perky teen tits being flaunted in front of me. I fail.
Trace Demon: Two more plates, same over for my friends here.
The waitress smiles and nods and heads for the kitchen. Anders sits awkwardly in the window seat of the booth, and I feel like he definitely did not want to bring Anna here.
Trace Demon: You alright if I talk business with your dad?
Anna Anders: Oh go right ahead. I’m just here for the pancakes.
The foot rubbing up my leg and the grin on her face say otherwise. At least, I hope that’s her leg, unless Anders is finally giving in to his homoerotic feelings.
Trace Demon: So?
Jason Anders: His contract’s iron clad Trace. Justin Tyme is as much Crowe’s owner as he is his manager. There’s no cutting him out of things on our end. Only way is if-
Trace Demon: Wait, you can keep a secret right? What is said at breakfast stays at breakfast.
Anna Anders: Oh don’t worry, my lips are sealed.
I do not miss the way she says that, and with her foot rapidly nearing my crotch I’m more than a little relieved when the not-so-Mrs Robinson brings two more plates of pancakes over for the Anders’ father and daughter duo. Anna’s eyes light up when she sees the pancakes and, for the time being, my cock is forgotten about. Which, in a rare event, is a relief, because talking business is considerably more difficult when you’ve got their daughter trying to give you a foot job.
Anna Anders: Oh my god these look so good!
Jason Anders: As I was saying, the only way to separate Tyme from Crowe is if Crowe severs the partnership. If you do anything to tamper with it from a contract standpoint then we won’t have a leg to stand on.
Trace Demon: So you’re telling me that if I want to keep Lucas Crowe on side then I’m stuck with Tyme and those two other weirdos?
Jason Anders: That’s how it looks. Say what you want about Justin Tyme but he has a pretty solid contract lawyer on side.
Trace Demon: That won’t do. Not at all.
Anna Anders: You know what would make these better? Maple syrup!
Trace Demon: Over by the cutlery.
Anna runs off and yes, I again fail at eyeing up her legs, you get the gist my now. Worryingly so does Anders, because when I look back at him he’s staring bullets through me.
Trace Demon: What?
Jason Anders: Do not try and sleep with my daughter.
Trace Demon: Anders, I wouldn’t-
He looks at me, and I realize I’m talking to a man who knows what kind of guy I am.
Trace Demon: Fine. I will not sleep with your daughter.
Both of us sit in slightly awkward silence as Anna half-skips half-runs back to the table. She smiles as she pours maple syrup over the pancakes and I immediately wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake with my promise.
Come on Trace, focus on business, not on boobs.
Trace Demon: So, you were saying there’s another way round the Justin Tyme problem?
Jason Anders: Right, if Crowe severs the partnership personally, then there’s nothing Tyme can do from a legal standpoint. At least not to us.
Trace Demon: Now that… that I can work with.
< *** >
TD Garden
23rd April 2016; 2:42pm
Trace Demon: No we’re gonna need the pyro set up along here before he comes out. I don’t want us to look amateur Gordy, you know that.
One of the things they don’t tell you about running a global, multi-million pound wrestling company is that it takes a lot of work, and I’m not just talking paperwork here. For our pay per views the stage crew can be working away weeks in advance to set everything up and make it look as good as possible. Take the Garden for instance, the show’s two weeks off and they’ve been working since first thing this morning.
That is also why I’m in Boston so far in advance.
Gordy: I know boss, it’s just we can save some cash if we-
Trace Demon: You know the money isn’t a problem. The sponsors like the spectacle of these things, they’re happy to shell out a little extra. And I’m more than happy to take that little extra. Make it big, make it loud, make it worth watching, got it?
Gordy: Got it boss.
Lucas Crowe: Didn’t think you’d be so hands on.
Trace Demon: Didn’t think you’d show kid, short notice and all. Sorry about that.
Lucas Crowe: I was already in town, getting the scope of things.
Trace Demon: Good, I like that, keeps you from getting overwhelmed. Walk with me, mind the gaps though, don’t want you hurting yourself.
We start making our way down the half-built ramp, having to be careful not to fall into pits of cabling where they haven’t sealed over yet.
Lucas Crowe: Weird seeing the place like this, usually it’s all made up by the time I get in. Feels wrong.
Trace Demon: It’s all just a frame right now, helps them get the feel for the place, figure out the space and how they can use it. There’s a lot of stuff about angles that I don’t care enough about to understand, but you get the picture.
We reach the centre of the arena. There’s a makeshift ring set up so they can make sure that the final thing will fit and they’ve got enough room between it and the barricades. That kind of stuff.
Lucas Crowe: Again, didn’t think you’d be so hands on. I figured you were like the rest of us and just came in, wrestled and flew to the next place.
Trace Demon: One of the earliest things I learnt is that if you want to do well in life then you don’t rely on other people to make things happen. I take pride in the WFWF, no matter what anyone else wants to tell you, so if I want this show to look good then I come out here and I make sure it looks good. They
up and, whether I’m here or not, it reflects badly on me. So I make sure I’m here, and I make sure they don’t it all up.I climb up onto the canvas, no rings in place yet. Crowe climbs up after me.
Trace Demon: Look at this place Crowe.
He looks around, and I can see it kind of clicking into place for him.
Trace Demon: You see how big this place really is? How much space is in here? How empty it all feels?
He nods, his attention still taken by the scope of it all.
Trace Demon: In a couple of weeks this place is going to be full to the brim, all of this space, all the emptiness, it’ll be gone, replaced by people who want to see us. That’s why they come here Crowe, not for guys like us, but for us. For me. For Drakz. Hell, whether you like them or not, even for Josh and Sam. We’re the elite. We’re the stadium fillers, the crowd pleasers, whether they like us or hate us they still buy tickets because they are enthralled by us.
He looks at me now, and I know it’s that moment. That moment I’ve perfected so well. The moment where you know that you’re words are the only things that matter, that everything else, everyone else, is nothing more than background noise.
Trace Demon: You want to be in that list of names, right?
Lucas Crowe: That’s why I’m here. I mean the money, sure, that’s part of it, but the glory. People chanting your name-
Trace Demon: Gives you shivers, right? Makes you feel important? You know why? Because it makes you important. Being able to fill an arena, being able to get people to spend their time sitting in those seats, spending their money to watch us, that makes you important. It makes you rich. It makes you powerful. There’s not a person out there worth anything that doesn’t want that feeling. You know how you do that?
Lucas Crowe: You win.
Trace Demon: Nah, you don’t win, you be better than everybody else. That’s what really makes people important Crowe, because they’re better than everybody else. Not just here, in this ring, but everywhere. You ever lost a girl to someone else? It’s because that somebody else was better than you. Maybe not nicer, maybe not kinder, maybe not richer or better looking or smarter or any of that crap. They’re better. That’s it, that’s what matters. Everyone likes to throw around the words heel or villain or even evil but the truth is I don’t consider myself any of those things, I just consider myself better, and more importantly I make sure that I’m better. By any means necessary. The reason I’m here helping set this place up is because being better means you do anything it takes to stay that way. Everyone I’ve ever helped or hurt, everyone I’ve ever done anything to I’ve done it in the pursuit of being better than everybody else. You see those guys?
He looks towards the stage where Gordy and the boys potter about with cables and panelling and everything else.
Trace Demon: I’m here working right alongside them, but not one of them thinks they’re on my level, because I don’t let them. Not one of them thinks, down deep inside them, that they’re as good as me, because I make sure that they’re not. That’s the reason I win Crowe, that’s the reason I’m a grand slam winner, a hall of fame member, hell, that’s the reason I’m rich and successful and have the life that I want to have. Because I do everything it takes to make sure that I am better than anyone else that steps in my way. You know what I think when I look at you? I see a man with potential, but I also see a man being held down.
Lucas Crowe: Justin.
Trace Demon: Bingo. Justin Tyme knows how to play the game Lucas, he wants to be one of the elite too, but he knows he can’t do it in this ring anymore so he’s doing it through you. And that means he will always be better than you, because as long as you’re with him you will forever be known as Justin Tyme’s guy.
Lucas Crowe: And what, you want me to be your guy instead? Is that it?
Trace Demon: No, you’d just be in the same spot you’re in now, but worse, because I’m far above Tyme’s level. Me and Drakz, we’re using you, just like you’re using us and we’re using each other. We’re doing whatever it takes to make sure we stay better than everyone else, I’m not gonna deny that. But you remember what I said, about relying on people?
Lucas Crowe: You don’t.
Trace Demon: Exactly. I’m using you and Drakz, but I’m not relying on either of you. I’d be in the exact same position I’m in now without either of you, it’d just be that little bit harder. Why make things harder on yourself, eh? Truth is Crowe the reason I’m telling you all of this isn’t for you, it’s for me. I want to keep using you until the time comes when one of us get in the others way, and then we’ll come to blows. That’s inevitable; it’s the way it works. There are only so many spots at the top and we can’t all have them. But until that time comes I want you to be as effective and useful to me as possible, I want you to be the best version of you that you can be. I figure in that regards we both want the same thing, right?
He doesn’t say anything, but we both know the answer.
Trace Demon: Being Justin Tyme’s guy is not going to help you be better Crowe, it’s just going to drag you down. That makes life harder for me, which is why I’m not bullcrapting you right now. Think about it and, if you’re as smart as I think you are, get rid of him. Might speed up our eventual knocking of heads sure, but until then it’ll keep me on top, where I deserve to be. Where you deserve to be too. Basically what I’m saying is if you want to be the best then it’s time you start doing what I did long ago. It’s time you start doing whatever it takes, even if that something isn’t particularly nice to somebody else.
I hop down from the edge of the ring. Crowe stays inside, mulling everything over.
Trace Demon: When it comes down it Crowe you’re only living your life, not anybody else’s so really, what do they matter?!
It’s his job to come to the right answer of course, but I’ll let you all in on it anyway. Simply put, they don’t matter, not one bit.
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel
23rd April 2016; 11:15pm
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, checking over my handiwork. The stitches have held nicely, probably better than the originals if I’m being honest with myself. Always have been good with my hands, just ask your sister. What? Too immature? Who gives a crap, I’m Trace Demon, I do what I want.
There’s a knock at the door, which is weird because I thought Elinor was dealing with her own crap tonight, and I definitely haven’t had the time to find myself some late night accompaniment. Still, I throw on a top and grab the door in hopes that maybe it’s a pleasant surprise. What I find standing there is a stunning nineteen year old redhead in a short skirt. So yes, pleasant surprise indeed.
Trace Demon: What are you… how did you even-
Anna Anders: It’s not that difficult to get a room number from the guy at reception.
Well not when you look like that, no. I think back to the promise I made Anders. I get where he’s coming from, if Emily came home with me in tow I’d be reaching straight for the nearest blunt object and preparing my alibi. As a fellow father I’m sympathetic towards it distaste, I really am.
Trace Demon: Come on in.
I just don’t really care all that much. Anna saunters in, her hips swaying rhythmically as she does so. She removes her jacket, a form fitting top lies beneath, and I can’t help but notice her skirt rides up a little as she leans against the edge of the sofa.
Anna Anders: I was gonna go all little black dress, but I figured comfort wins over slutiness.
Trace Demon: You realize your dad would not approve of this whole thing, right?
Anna Anders: My dad’s a loser. Plus he still thinks I’m his sweet little girl, I can do what I want and he’ll just forgive me the moment I give him the look.
She gives me a demonstration of ‘the look’ and for a brief moment it turns me off. It’s the sweet little girl look, the sweet smile and fluttering eyelashes. Then she laughs this devilish bloody laugh and all the blood rushes downstairs again.
Trace Demon: I’m afraid I’m not so lucky. You’re dad’s a friend of mine you know.
She brushes her hand against my arm as I walk past her towards the hotel room’s little built in kitchen. I think it hurts her ego a little bit that I didn’t go weak at the knees, because she follows me in. When I close the fridge door, bottle of water in hand, she’s leant against the counter and the skirt’s definitely gotten higher up the thigh. Another inch and there’ll be nothing left to the imagination.
Anna Anders: Friend seems like a bit of a stretch from the vibe I got at breakfast.
She’s right of course, Anders is an employee, but he’s one that I trust. Not on the same level I trust Elinor, but I can give him a job and he’ll usually get it done. That’s the closest I have to friends when it comes down to it.
Trace Demon: Regardless, I promised him I wouldn’t touch you.
She steps forward and before I know what’s happening her hand is pressed against my crotch, slightly squeezing. It’s a power play, a good one at that.
Anna Anders: I didn’t promise anything.
Despite the pleasure down south I manage to pull away and walk off towards the sitting room. I sip on the water like we’re playing some messed up game of cat and mouse. Only if she gets her way then everybody gets eaten.
Trace Demon: What makes you think that I’m that kind of guy eh? What makes you think I’d just go behind your dad’s back like that?
Anna Anders: Let’s not pretend I’m some sweet, naïve little girl. You’re the type of guy who knows what he wants and takes it, right? I could feel that a mile off. The moment I sat down at that table I could tell that you take what you want regardless of what it means for everybody else. I like that. I like it a lot.
Makes sense when you break it down. It’s the same thing every girl her age has. Daddy issues. I’m the opposite of Anders, and that does it for her.
Anna Anders: I like a man who takes what he wants.
She takes a slow, methodical step forward. She wants me to look at her, to take her body in, but I stay focused on her eyes. Even in a situation like this I’m not going to give up the power. That’s not what I do.
Anna Anders: I like a man who takes control.
Another step forward.
Anna Anders: And I like a man who does whatever he wants to whoever he wants.
One more step and she’s so close I can feel her breath.
Anna Anders: So what do you want? To be a good person? Or me?
She pulls away from me and heads towards the bedroom, pulling her top off and throwing it to the floor as she goes. So what do I want? To be a good person? To do the honourable thing? Or to take what I want and
everybody else?I mean let’s be honest.
That’s not a tough choice at all.
< *** >
The Eliot Hotel
26th April 2016; 11:11pm
I finish with a final thrust, feeling myself empty inside her as she clenches. What? Nobody ever said I was family friendly.
Anna’s spent every night here since she turned up at the door. She arrives around nine, leaves by two, tells her mom that she was out clubbing with friends. I don’t ask how she avoids the awkward topic of why she’s come back with sticky clothes more than once. Not my place when you think about it.
Anna Anders: That was fun. You ordered food up, right?
Trace Demon: Yeah, should be here by half past.
Anna Anders: Awesome, I’m gonna jump in the shower. Feel free to join me if you want.
I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know she’s using me. Fancy nights in a hotel, fancy food, sex on demand. Who cares really? People use each other, it’s how things work, the smart ones are the people who get things out of it. It’s what separates me from the likes of Josh and Sam. Josh’s marriage is crumbling, Sam has some daughter with some woman I don’t care about and I’m here sleeping with a nineteen year old. Way I see it I’m the only winner right now.
I’m about to take her up on her offer when there’s a knock at the door. Don’t you just hate it when room service is early? I grab a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and get the door.
This surprise is not as pleasant as the last one.
Jason Anders: Where is she?
He storms into the room, which if you ask me is a bit rude but I’ll give him a pass just this once. Circumstances and all.
Trace Demon: I have no-
Jason Anders: Oh shut up Trace. Her mom told me she’d been out every night since that breakfast, so I called at the hotel and they said you were busy with a guest. And it sure as hell hasn’t been Elinor because I tried her too and she told me you were busy with business.
Trace Demon: I don’t know why you immediately assumed she’d be with me. I mean that’s kind of rude.
Jason Anders: Because I know you Trace! Because I’ve spent more than ten minutes in your company!
That’d be rude if it wasn’t so true.
Anna Anders: Dad?
You know that moment you think nothing can make a moment any more awkward and then their daughter turns up in the bedroom doorway wearing just a towel? What, you don’t know that moment? Lucky son of a bitch.
Jason Anders: Get dressed and come with me, we’re leaving.
Anna Anders: I’ll pass.
Jason Anders: You’ll wh-
She closes the bedroom door before he can even get the sentence out. That’s got to sting. Wait, why is he turning towards me? He can’t possibly blame me for… wait, no, yes he can.
Jason Anders: You bunghole! You gave me your word! Oh why am I surprised, your word is worth absolutely nothing. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you, you disgusting son of a bitch. What, you thought it was funny? Sleep with my daughter and laugh about it behind my back?
Trace Demon: I promise you there has been very little mention of your name. And it was never your back I was behind.
Okay, that might have been too far even for me.
Jason Anders: You think this is funny? You think anybody is laughing with you? No Trace, they’re not, they’re laughing at you. You’re that thirty year old guy sleeping with a nineteen year old because anybody your own age can instantly see what a selfish piece of crap you are. If she wasn’t
ing dead then Alexa-One punch sends him down.
Trace Demon: You pushed it too far. You don’t talk about her, understand? You don’t
ing talk about her!Jason Anders: She’d think you were pathetic right now.
A boot straight to the ribs shuts him up quick enough.
Before I know what I’m doing I’ve stormed into the bedroom. Anna is asking something but I don’t hear what. She’s white noise. I grab the bottle of vodka and the glass from out of the minibar and fill it to the brim. I slam the door shut behind me as I walk back into the sitting room. Anna doesn’t follow me. Anders is struggling up onto his feet. He sees the glass.
Jason Anders: So you’re drinking again.
Trace Demon: It’s for you you ungrateful dick.
I shove the glass into his hands, some of the vodka spilling onto his cheap shirt. Instead of drinking it, as any guest with any manners should do, he places it down on the table. His eye is already swelling a little from the punch, that’s gonna be black tomorrow.
Jason Anders: You don’t get to talk yourself out of this one.
Trace Demon: When are you going to accept that this whole world is not your pity parade Anders? I slept with your daughter, so what? Your wife left you, so what? Your daughter doesn’t respect you, who cares? When are you going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start doing something about it, eh? Look at this.
I point at the stitches in my forehead. Still not quite healed enough to get rid of them yet, Josh got me good.
Trace Demon: You think when Josh hit me with that trophy I just sat down and started crying? No, I savoured the taste of his blood on my tongue and I promised to end him. I promised myself I was going to rip him apart because that is what a real person does.
Jason Anders: That’s what a psycho does Trace. You’re not right in the head.
I hear myself laugh before I even know I’ve done it.
Trace Demon: You’re just like the rest. Just like Josh and Sam and Lila and everyone else who thinks that just because I
them over they’ve got a right to cry about it. I can them over because they’re too busy crying about it, you understand? If one of them, just one, had the balls to put me down properly then I wouldn’t be able to do anything, would I? But I can, because they don’t. Because they’re too busy pissing and bitching about me to actually do anything about me. There’s a reason I’m still standing while everyone else has come and gone. Because unlike you I am not afraid to do what I want.Jason Anders: Even though what you want hurts other people?
What a stupid question.
Trace Demon: Who cares about other people? Not me, I’m smarter than that.
Jason Anders: She really picked herself a winner with you, didn’t she.
Trace Demon: A winner? Yeah Jason, she did.
He shakes his head, wants to keep arguing, to keep screaming and shouting, but he doesn’t know what to say. Sums him up perfectly if you ask me. Instead of doing what he should do he ends up storming out, slamming the door shut behind him. The moment he leaves the bedroom door opens, Anna standing in it.
Trace Demon: Aren’t you going to go after him?
Anna Anders: I’d rather stay with you.
Hah. Of course you would.
I’m a
ing god.< *** >
There is a feeling among the WFWF that I am a villain. The great Trace Demon, a monster of a man. It’s laughable really. It’s also a bit pathetic, but I understand. It’s hard not to hate something that’s so much better than you. It’s hard not to hate someone who does exactly what you wish you could do. That’s only human, right? So no, I don’t blame any of you for trying to make me out to be the worst person in the world. It’s fine, really. That’s your prerogative. What I have a problem with is this feeling everyone seems to have that I’m the bad guy and Josh Dean is some shining knight here to vanquish me. Insert your own crapty metaphor but the point stands.
And again I don’t have this problem because of some pain over being made out to be the bad guy. I don’t, honestly I don’t give a crap. What I have a problem with is that somehow the world thinks that a man who goes out and gets what he wants and lives a happy life is a bad guy while someone with a failing marriage who can’t even look after his wife when they were stable is someone to be celebrated. I just don’t understand. I mean the way I see it, the way it is for me, is that Josh Dean is trying to tear my life apart out of some… I don’t know, jealousy I guess?
Josh Dean has been going out of his way for months, I mean longer even, trying to make me out to be a bad guy while he goes about attacking me, bad mouthing me, allying with the woman trying to destroy my company when all I want to do is live my life the way I want to live it. I mean if Josh was really a good guy then surely he should have been more preoccupied with helping Nikki and trying to save his marriage than with coming after me, right? I mean tell me if I’m wrong but that seems like the good guy thing to do. So then we get into the matter of whether Josh is a good guy because in my eyes he isn’t which then takes us to the question of why you all think he is.
I mean the answer is simple right? The answer’s always been simple. From the very day that I started in this business the answer’s been staring me right in the face and I guess I had some hope that people were good so I didn’t want to believe it but… I mean there comes a point you’ve just got to accept it. See the reason everyone thinks I’m a bad guy is because I’m everything they’re not. It’s because I’m willing to do anything to make sure I’m the best version of me that I can be and because I’m willing to do things that they’re not to get what I want. So you paint me as this villain just because I’m happy and because I’m thriving and because you wish that you had the guts and the courage to go out and really take hold of what you want.
See there’s a reason that right now Josh Dean isn’t the WFWF World Heavyweight Champion and that’s because me and Drakz were willing to go further than he was to keep that title around Drakz’s waist. There’s a reason that right now Samael Ahriman isn’t the WFWF National Champion and yes, that’s because me and Lucas Crowe were willing to go further then he was to keep that title. And so because we’re willing to do what you’re not that makes us bad people, right? That’s how it works. And hence because I’m willing to do more than anybody else to make sure that I get what I want that makes me the number one heel in the WFWF, right?
So now on the opposite side of the coin. Josh Dean is the number one face, the best good guy, the purest of the pure in the WFWF, right? That’s why you voted for him, that’s why he got that award, because he’s a good guy. Whereas in my eyes Josh Dean is pathetic. He’s a loser. He’s a failure, a nobody, worth nothing to me, to Nikki Dean, to you people. He’s a bad role model for your kids, and for his in fact. But you still love him because he’s like you. He’ll go so far but when it gets tough, when he has to make hard choices, he runs the other way and in turn he doesn’t get what he wants. A wife who loves him? No. A family who embraces him? No. Friends he can rely on? No. The WFWF World Heavyweight Championship?
No.
Josh Dean is a face, because a face is someone who doesn’t quite get the job done because he’s too busy worrying about what people think. I am a heel because a heel is someone who does whatever it takes and gets the job done no matter what anybody thinks of him. So if that’s how it works then I’m happy to be the number one heel in the WFWF, because that means I get to be the owner, I get to hold titles, I get to be on top of cards, I get to be the most important man in the company. And outside of it I get the girls I want, I get the money that I deserve; I get the respect and the fear of people. If that is what I get for being a so called heel then that is what I will be because that is the only thing that matters.
Josh, we step foot inside that cage in Boston and it’s just me and you. The top face vs. the top heel. Big time match, right? But the truth is that no matter what by the time the bell rings I’m still going to have everything that I already had, the power, the girls, the money, the elite status in the company, and you’re still going to have everything that you had. The respect of the people and… nothing else. I know which side I’d rather be on. But really it doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you can win this match, because this match comes down to who is willing to go the furthest to win, to get what they want and what they deserve. And I think we’ve proven by this point that you are not willing to do that. But I am.
I’m willing to do anything it takes.
I am the top heel of the WFWF. I am a winner. I am a god.
The time for talk is over. The time to take what I want is now. And what I want… is your broken body beneath by boot.
