Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2020 21:05:55 GMT -5
I WILL PREVAIL
A Billy Broom RP
Interlude I: Warning Ignored
I still hear that f**k’s voice in my head. That smirk on his goddamn face as he –
I pound the table that causes my styrofoam takeout box to tremble. Fortunately for me, I’m all alone for the night so there’s no one around to catch another Billy Broom meltdown. The steam stemming from the kung-pao chicken I ordered isn’t enough to mask the poignant smell of a decrepit, 330 square foot antique shop of a hotel room.
The light illuminating the room is a piss yellow and tiny specks of dust spiral all around me, falling from the fan like snow.
This is what $60 gets you.
It’s all I can afford following the settlement but it sure as hell beats sleeping outside.
The more I think about Drakz, the quicker I lose my appetite.
That motherf**ker.
The droning noise of sports talk shows aren’t enough to muffle Drakz’s voice and what he said about Jenny.
It’s the thought that no father ever wants to bear: the thought of a madman who threatens your daughter and there's nothing you can do to stop them. It’s like that dream I had where I was helpless, trapped, unable to save Jenny from that psychopath.
Somehow through all the buzzing, I manage to catch -
“Please welcome our special guest, Isaac Bruce!”
I nearly jump out of bed.
Isaac?!
That’s the f**k’s name.
Life has a cruel way of being ironic.
That old feeling takes over and I fling the box of takeout at the CT TV a few feet in front of me.
“F**K!”
The thick sauce trickles down the former wide receiver’s face like blood. In a huff, I pace around the room, looking for something to smash as the sauce oozes past the TV and making its way down the dark-stained wood dresser.
“That mother-“
I’m fighting the urge to just break through the wall and go on a rampage. I can’t form sentences correctly as the basic act of speaking escapes me. I can feel the top of my head pulsate as the blood pumps through my veins, giving me that feeling of expansion and tightness after a good workout at the gym. My idle hands are at the mercy of the devil as I grab the lamb off the nightstand and attempt to smash it with my bare hands.
My arm begins to shake when the glass frame doesn’t give.
So, I squeeze harder.
And harder until my knuckles turn white.
That f**king smirk only causes my head to inflate to the size of a mardi gras float and my body feels like one of those magic grow capsules. I feel like I’m in a shell as all my strength dissipates into failing to break a small lamb base.
When the tiny gust of air causes the blinds to scatter, I see off in the distant like a poor man’s rendition of Starry, Starry Night: a liquor store.
Taunting my weak mind with a red-neon light which flashes O P E N
It could’ve been a pair of tits and it wouldn't have the same effect on me.
Booze is what gets me going.
The sight alone turns me into a pathetic excuse of flesh, turning to human clay, approaching the window that appears to be calling out to me.
Come on. What’s one drink gonna do?
I heard a voice but then, I didn’t.
I don’t know what’s happening right now. I can feel the urge emanating from the bottom of my feet and like some sort of disease, working its way up to my thighs and the rest of my body until I get that....funny feeling.
I haven't had a drink in 6 months but I'd be lying if I said that the thought doesn't comes to mind here and then.
I'm all worked up and liquor is the only thing that tames the wild beast.
You know you want one. You know how it makes us feel.
“Us? Who the hell-?”
The firm carpet beneath my feet suddenly turns to hot sand.
I remember this.
I can feel the cold touch of withdrawal run its tentacle-like fingers down my back, leaving shivers in its wake. I can feel it guide my hand to the latch that secures the window in place.
I'm proud of my progress. It wasn't easy to admit to a room full of strangers that you have a drinking problem. Having all the focus be on a custodian-turned-wrestler-turned assaulter in the wake of just having escaped serving prison was enough to scare me into straying far from my path.
It sucks. And humiliating.
In the palm of my hand, I can feel a stinging coldness.
It's my 6-month chip. The metallic remainder of everything that's gotten me to this point.
You know that the answer to all our problems lie at the bottom of a bottle.
The neon-light shimmers to a familiar rhythm, drowning out the sounds of the television and I could swear that the room has gotten smaller. The rhythm of my heartbeat dances along with the flashing sign, which only causes the temptation – no, the craving to get stronger and f**king stronger.
I try to pry the latch open, but it must be made glass because it won’t budge.
Remember how good we felt?
I’m pathetic. I nod my head to nothing, looking like a fat kid trying to get his fingers inside the cookie jar.
The sand beneath my feet grows hotter but I don’t react. I look down and see that the sand is slowly swallowing me whole – and the room itself.
When I veer up, I see the sign still calling for me but rather than entice me with it’s nullifying effects, the sign flashes D O N T
You’re seeing things, Billy. You know what you really want.
I close my eyes, hoping that maybe this is just another one of those….episodes where I have no idea what’s real and what’s in my head.
The sign still says D O N T
Like the passage outside the gates of hell, it serves as a warning. One that would be wise for me to heed.
If I do this, I'm not only letting myself down. I'm letting Jenny down as well.
She's so proud of how far I've come in my recovery....but f**k.
You were unstoppable! Look at you now.
It's right.
I’ve lost my edge since I stopped.
I beat Luke, Daisy and the f**king Dragon while I was s**tfaced. I lost to Destroyer and countless others while sober.
The walls are closing in on me the more I fight. It's getting intense now.
Just give in. Drink.
F**k it.
That was all it took. Like tripping a blind man, I was helpless.
The latch suddenly turns to plastic and without much resistance, the cold air smacks my chest and the sign, which has reverted back to its lightshow taunting grows closer....
And closer.....
*
Interlude II: Unlocking the Secret Door
The trendy hotspot for fine yet inexpensive dining rings with life as Jenny and I are led to our table in the back. The atmosphere is lively with scribbles all over the walls and paper as a tablecloth. It's much quieter in the back and there's a tint of green light in the room, a drastic change from the brightly-lit main room from the entrance. The sunlight doesn't do my hungover self any favors. I do the best I can to act like I hadn't gone on a late-night bender just 24 hours ago.
“What kind of place is this again?”
“It’s seafood.”
"Looks like a dive to me."
The combined noise of chatter and sports muffle the faint music playing through the massive speakers mounted in the corners of the restaurant as they suddenly dissipate once Jenny and I are seated. The waiter hands us the small laminated menus. The guy's name is Marcus. A name that only churns up feelings of regret and shame.
Despite the attention I gave to his plastic nametag, I somehow manage to utter the words, "Water" like some Neanderthal.
"Are you two familiar with how our menu works?"
As I go to look up at the man, I see his face dripping with blood! His eyes are bruised and he's wheezing like an old squeak toy!
"I'm going to die because of you!"
I'm frozen with fear. It's the one thing that still haunts me to this day; I put two kids on breathing machines. I'm the reason that two kids are f**king vegetables, unsure of whether or not they'll be able to walk or even, function again. Though I was blacked out, the footage of that night plays in my head like a B-movie reel and my thoughts are the commentary. A bloody mop suddenly appears in my hands and they shake as a result.
"sir? Sir?"
"Dad? Are you okay?"
I'm back. Everything suddenly morphs back to how it should be. The bloody mop is gone and the waiter looks like himself again.
My two witnesses are hunched towards me, making sure that I'm even still functioning.
"Yeah. Sorry. I -"
"My father is going through a lot right now, please excuse us."
She's always there to save face whenever I have a moment.
"Just get us two orders of the vegetables with mild, please."
The waiter, seemingly terrified bolts, leaving Jenny to tend to her distraught father.
"Sorry. I just -"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's just - "
The sight of seeing those two kids, broken and mangled because of me is all I see.
"His name. It's Marcus."
Jenny frowns. The one thing she probably still won't ever forgive me for. Her touch is enough to spark some faint amount of hope but the anxiety of keeping my relapse from her continues to gnaw at me. I do the best I can still to fight off before those....feelings come back and I see Jenny with a smile on her face. I get the feeling that she's about to say something that's going to make my bender last night even worse of a decision than it already was.
"I'm proud of you, dad."
F**k.
I instinctively smile as a defense mechanism because I know I did wrong. The moment of her and I enjoying lunch together - after everything I've put her through is perfect and I don't want to ruin it....
"You've been doing good lately. I know you still struggle but it's progress nonetheless."
But I have to tell her.
I'm not lying to her ever again.
I can't find the words to reply, I just smile like an idiot. Marcus haphazardly approaches me and hands me a nice cold glass of water. I immediate drink it to calm my nerves. Jenny, like a normal person takes a few sips and set it down.
"I just want you to know that I'll support you through this."
There's a nail pinned to my hand and the more Jenny spouts how proud she is of me and my progress, the nail is the driven further...and deeper into my hand. Metaphorically. Even my thoughts are a mess.
The overwhelming sense of dread hovers over me like a black cloud that I can't shake. Time seems to just go on and on with nothing but me wallowing in my state of despair. I think Jenny is okay with me just sitting there though, looking pathetic as I do. I've never been so scared to speak more in my life but it's like a band aid - sometimes, you just have to rip it off.
"So listen. I have something I have to tell you...."
Life pulls another fast one as right as I found the courage to speak, I notice the waiters hauling bags of stuff from the back and delivering them to tables all over the establishment.
“Why are they bringing out plastic bags?”
She turns her head before realizing what her old man is talking about.
“That’s our food, dad.”
“What?”
"It’s a seafood medley but in a bag, basically. It's very rustic.”
The hell? Eating out of a plastic bag? In no time, Marcus is heading our way with two plastic bags with orange liquid settling at the bottom.
I can smell the steamed zucchini and corn with a hint of spices the closer he gets to us. I watch Jenny dig in and see a little smile after tasting the food. I don't want to ruin this night for her so I solider through the only way I know how.
The zucchini chars my tongue but then the spiciness of the sauce kicks in. It doesn't even taste like zucchini. The small creamers on the side; baby potatoes are like balloons of hot air. I use the fork to cut them in half and it goes through them like a knife through butter, the steam whiffing me like a right-hook. I drench the spuds in the now congealed sauce and it delivers in terms of flavor.
The wedge of corn fairs no different. Same with the bell peppers, tomatoes and squash.
“Well? What do you think? Do you like it?”
Despite its aesthetics, it’s clearly tasty. Never judge a book by its cover.
"It's pretty good."
She beams.
"I'm glad!"
Marcus stops by and refills my glass of water again, seemingly becoming less and less afraid to approach the middle-aged bald man that's paying his bills.
"So what were you going to tell me earlier?"
I know better than to think that Jenny would've forgotten the reel I threw in earlier. It suddenly becomes hard to eat as my appetite wanes.
She looks at me while eating, which only further adds to the hesitation.
"You have to promise me that you won't get mad."
The statement causes her to put her fork down and focus all her attention to me.
S**t. S**t.
At this rate, my heart is pounding through my chest. My hands are clammy and I feel cold.
"Last night, I -"
I can feel my lips tremble. The thoughts of me downing bottle after bottle of alcohol like some rabid beast terrify me. Like a starving child, I overindulged. There's a reason they call liquor "poison" because it'll kill you. If not quickly but very slowly.
She waits patiently, her fingers interlocked with one another. I get the impression that somehow, she already knows. She's always been very intuitive and wise for her age and I don't have the best poker face either.
"I drank. Again."
Her lips curl up as she processes what I said in her head. I can't even look at her in the face. I've never felt such shame and embarrassment as I do now. I can feel her gaze and it's uncomfortable. The longer she sits in silence, the worse I feel.
"Six months. Six months and I threw it all away."
I get to urge to pound the table but we're in public and I won't embarrass her again.
"Well, I appreciate you being honest with me. We all trip and fall sometimes but it's about how we react to our mistakes that make us better."
She could be a therapist if she really tried. The lively atmosphere behind us isn't enough to cut the friction in the air. She's not upset but I can see it in her eyes that she's disappointed.
I don't blame her on bit.
"Why did you drink again?"
"You know why."
"Because of Drakz?"
I hate the guy and I hate hearing his name even more.
"Dad, I'll be fine. I think a guy like Drakz is all bark and no bite."
She's wrong. Way wrong.
"He stole Frank's car, Jenny. He was mere inches away from Frank's baby girl. You don't know what he is capable of!"
She sighs, acknowledging that I'm right.
"Dad, I won't let myself get taken advantage of. I'm not a little girl anymore."
She'll always be my little girl.
She is why I fight and she is why I will go berserk when she is threatened. My old temper subsided once I got older but after Dallas, something triggered it to come back in full force. She was threatened by a lunatic and I failed to stop him.
I might as just given Jenny away at that point since her own father can't protect her. Take that with watching your hero get her head caved in - it's a lot for a little girl.
Then she gets kidnapped by that f**king Destroyer and my worst fear comes true.
It's all a cycle and I was stuck in an infinite loop and right when I thought that I had gotten out of it, Drakz had to go and say what he did and then it led to me drinking again.
The cycle continues.
I spill everything for her and she doesn't react. She just tries makes sense of it all silently per the expression on her face.
"My mission as your father is to protect you and keep you safe. When I lost to Needles, I failed as a father. When Destroyer took you, I –“
That too causes her to feel uneasy as she turns her head and looks down at the floor.
“I thought I had lost you and that….that he would hurt you.”
I really want to cry but I can't. A father never cries in front of his daughter. I have to remain strong.
“I failed as a father, so I started drinking again to numb myself and the pain. I lost control so I felt like garbage. Drinking helped me cope with....the feelings.”
I see Jenny frown. Despite everything she’s been through, she’s unfazed by it all. That or she’s compartmentalized it better than I did.
“You didn’t fail, dad. You fought as hard as you could. What happened in Dallas – yeah, it sucked but I got over it. A lot of…..things have happened to us recently but I got over it.”
“You were kidnapped!”
I catch myself raising my voice.
"But I wasn't hurt. That's the positive outlook you need. When Mesh got her nose broken, what did she do? She laughed it off. She didn't let that stop her from coming back the next show and kicking ass!"
She's becoming more and more like Mesh everyday. I'm glad that weirdo has given Jenny a sense of identity and direction. Mesh speaks to her in ways I never will and I'm grateful for that. It takes balls to laugh at your own pain and failures.
She's right though.
“I won't let what happened to me define me. I'm much stronger than that. Maybe you should too. Otherwise, you’ll always be this way…..and I don't want to see you like this, daddy. I was raised by a badass soldier that kicks ass in the ring! Who you've become now isn't you."
I reach out and grab her hand, fighting back tears. She’s so strong. I raised my girl to be tough but even she fights back tears.
“You lost to Needles, so what? Mesh lost to Anna and you two are still my biggest inspirations.”
Another shot to the gut from Jennifer Broom but I don’t sell it.
"Even if you lose to Drakz and don't win the belt, you'll still be my dad and I'll still love you. I just want you to come home in one piece and not paralyzed or...."
I can imagine a bloodied, nearly dead Mesh comes to mind.
“Mesh taught me to always be myself, regardless of what people may say. You taught me how to be strong. The fact that both you and her are still alive after going through so much says it all. That’s why I love you both.”
It's too much. I start bawling. So does Jenny. I get up from my chair and hug her as tightly as I can.
"I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm sorry for putting you through so much. I really want to change, baby but it's hard."
"Don't change for me, dad. Change because you want to."
I hold back the urge to just wail like a baby but goddamn, how can I not? I put my girl through hell and at the end of the day, I'm still the cool dad. I'm still someone that she looks up to. I thought I had truly lost her but to know that I never did - f**k.
It could all end right here, and I'll be happy.
"Everything happens for a reason. Maybe there's a reason you lost at SuperBrawl. Maybe there's a reason you started drinking. Maybe there's a reason why you didn't go to prison. All of this made us stronger in the end. It made you a better wrestler!"
She's brilliant. I put myself down, buried with my head in the sand and only she is the one that managed to pull me out and build me back up. Since everything happened, I keep thinking to myself - why?
I should've bled to death after trying to kill myself.
I should be in prison for attempted murder.
I should be paralyzed after my match with Zmey.
But I'm not.
There's something bigger than me at play here. Something that put me through so much to get here: with my daughter, my pride and joy, out of the darkness and finally seeing that light at the end of the darkest tunnels.
"I forgive you, daddy. For everything. I love you!"
I hold her tighter as I bawl into her shoulders.
"I love you too, baby!"
The restaurant appears to grow brighter, and the music seems to be louder following her response. It's like the saturation of everything was suddenly turned up because it's not as gloomy in the air. The weight that I've been dragging for so long....gone. My breathing suddenly slows down, and my back straightens out.
Like a gust of wind, I can feel the dread and fear leave my body.
I feel like the old me again. I'm not moody or angry.
I'm.....happy. I wipe the tears from the eyes with all but a smile on my face. Jenny does too.
"Don't ever put yourself down like that again, okay? Go kick Drakz’s ass!"
She then does her best Christa Adina impression.
“And the newwwwwwwwwwwwwww WFWF International Champion, Billy Brooooommmmm!”
I laugh. For the first time in a long time, I laugh.
*
Interlude III: The Fog Descends
So it finally comes down to this, Drakz.
The Janitor versus The A**hole.
One-on-one for the belt.
It feels like we’ve been on a collision course for a long time now. The timing or the situation wasn’t always right and quite frankly, I was willing to let it go and never give you the free rent in my head that you were so desperate for but then you had to go and say what you said about my daughter then all that rage came back. The side of me that I’ve tried so hard to suppress.
Like Jekyll, my Hyde emerged, my ugly side. The side of me that has no remorse or compassion for the amount of pain that I inflict. It’s the same mindset that allowed me to come home from the service.
That killer instinct. Where your knack for survival kicks in and it's every man for himself and in this fight, I will be the one that survives. The problem with people like you is that you get too comfortable. It's like when you have a job that you absolutely despise. you'll keep going because it's what you do.
The problem with that is when things change, you aren't always ready and it catches you off guard.
That's the trap that many have fallen into when facing you - they choke.
They realize that they're going to square up with a titan and they lose, before the bell even rings because you know what buttons to push. You're damn good at that.
But I'm Hercules. I put down the dragon and I will put you down as well. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, I'm not like the other names on your list. I'm not a trained wrestler, I'm not a diddler, I'm not a drug abuser, I'm nothing like the pieces of trash that you've faced before. I'm the wildcard. The thing you don't expect because you're comfortable. You're going into this match with zero expectations of me because well - you're Drakz.
But I'm a fighter. I'm a soldier. I was bred to take damage and inflict damage. I'm a pitbull and you got me rabid.
I did something that Frank and the almighty Drakz couldn't do - I pinned Tugarin Zmey. I don’t give a f**k if you had a hand in that win. I still beat the motherf**ker clean. I didn’t need handcuffs. I didn’t need the ring steps. I beat Zmey because I was stronger. And tougher.
I didn't run like the bitch you are. You know me, Drakz - I don't back down from anyone and I sure as hell ain't backing down from you.
Franchise, Destroyer, EBR - they all pick and choose when they want to fight you. I’m the only motherf**ker that’s willing to fight you NOW.
Not in two months.
Not on a future date.
Now.
I went to Carrot Top and asked him for a match right then and there after you ran your mouth because I don't let s**t slide. I don't attack from behind, I come at you head-on like a raging bull. Well Drakz - you're in my way. You've always been in my way and now it's time I go through you.
You’re mine, Drakz and I’m coming to fight.
You have this little ultimatum where if you lose, you retire. You’re done. You leave.
So I have to beat you, Drakz.
You’ve been the source of misery for so many people that I would doing the world a favor by putting you down for good. You will NEVER speak about my daughter that way again. It's the only way that the WFWF will be healthy again - by cutting off the cancer, squashing the leech, impaling the vampire, killing the jackal that has used and exploited the company for his own personal gain. I was there during the New Epoch days, in the background, watching you, studying you and never again will I allow three tyrants, mad with power to run amok, leaving nothing but destruction and fragility in its path.
I WILL beat you, Drakz.
I WILL become the new International Champion.
I WILL prevail.
It'll come to fruition, everything that I've been through, everything that has been leading up to this when I'm the one left standing with your title, leaving you with NOTHING! I will bring back the prestige and integrity to the International Championship that Frank Lynn brought to it.
In the history books when people look back and reminiscence on the greatness that was your career, it won't have the grand, epic ending that I'm sure you want. No, no - you don't get to just lay in the middle of the ring with your eyes closed as the show fades to black. Not you.
Drakz doesn't go out in a blaze of glory.
He gets beat by the f**king janitor!
The trendy hotspot for fine yet inexpensive dining rings with life as Jenny and I are led to our table in the back. The atmosphere is lively with scribbles all over the walls and paper as a tablecloth. It's much quieter in the back and there's a tint of green light in the room, a drastic change from the brightly-lit main room from the entrance. The sunlight doesn't do my hungover self any favors. I do the best I can to act like I hadn't gone on a late-night bender just 24 hours ago.
“What kind of place is this again?”
“It’s seafood.”
"Looks like a dive to me."
The combined noise of chatter and sports muffle the faint music playing through the massive speakers mounted in the corners of the restaurant as they suddenly dissipate once Jenny and I are seated. The waiter hands us the small laminated menus. The guy's name is Marcus. A name that only churns up feelings of regret and shame.
Despite the attention I gave to his plastic nametag, I somehow manage to utter the words, "Water" like some Neanderthal.
"Are you two familiar with how our menu works?"
As I go to look up at the man, I see his face dripping with blood! His eyes are bruised and he's wheezing like an old squeak toy!
"I'm going to die because of you!"
I'm frozen with fear. It's the one thing that still haunts me to this day; I put two kids on breathing machines. I'm the reason that two kids are f**king vegetables, unsure of whether or not they'll be able to walk or even, function again. Though I was blacked out, the footage of that night plays in my head like a B-movie reel and my thoughts are the commentary. A bloody mop suddenly appears in my hands and they shake as a result.
"sir? Sir?"
"Dad? Are you okay?"
I'm back. Everything suddenly morphs back to how it should be. The bloody mop is gone and the waiter looks like himself again.
My two witnesses are hunched towards me, making sure that I'm even still functioning.
"Yeah. Sorry. I -"
"My father is going through a lot right now, please excuse us."
She's always there to save face whenever I have a moment.
"Just get us two orders of the vegetables with mild, please."
The waiter, seemingly terrified bolts, leaving Jenny to tend to her distraught father.
"Sorry. I just -"
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's just - "
The sight of seeing those two kids, broken and mangled because of me is all I see.
"His name. It's Marcus."
Jenny frowns. The one thing she probably still won't ever forgive me for. Her touch is enough to spark some faint amount of hope but the anxiety of keeping my relapse from her continues to gnaw at me. I do the best I can still to fight off before those....feelings come back and I see Jenny with a smile on her face. I get the feeling that she's about to say something that's going to make my bender last night even worse of a decision than it already was.
"I'm proud of you, dad."
F**k.
I instinctively smile as a defense mechanism because I know I did wrong. The moment of her and I enjoying lunch together - after everything I've put her through is perfect and I don't want to ruin it....
"You've been doing good lately. I know you still struggle but it's progress nonetheless."
But I have to tell her.
I'm not lying to her ever again.
I can't find the words to reply, I just smile like an idiot. Marcus haphazardly approaches me and hands me a nice cold glass of water. I immediate drink it to calm my nerves. Jenny, like a normal person takes a few sips and set it down.
"I just want you to know that I'll support you through this."
There's a nail pinned to my hand and the more Jenny spouts how proud she is of me and my progress, the nail is the driven further...and deeper into my hand. Metaphorically. Even my thoughts are a mess.
The overwhelming sense of dread hovers over me like a black cloud that I can't shake. Time seems to just go on and on with nothing but me wallowing in my state of despair. I think Jenny is okay with me just sitting there though, looking pathetic as I do. I've never been so scared to speak more in my life but it's like a band aid - sometimes, you just have to rip it off.
"So listen. I have something I have to tell you...."
Life pulls another fast one as right as I found the courage to speak, I notice the waiters hauling bags of stuff from the back and delivering them to tables all over the establishment.
“Why are they bringing out plastic bags?”
She turns her head before realizing what her old man is talking about.
“That’s our food, dad.”
“What?”
"It’s a seafood medley but in a bag, basically. It's very rustic.”
The hell? Eating out of a plastic bag? In no time, Marcus is heading our way with two plastic bags with orange liquid settling at the bottom.
I can smell the steamed zucchini and corn with a hint of spices the closer he gets to us. I watch Jenny dig in and see a little smile after tasting the food. I don't want to ruin this night for her so I solider through the only way I know how.
The zucchini chars my tongue but then the spiciness of the sauce kicks in. It doesn't even taste like zucchini. The small creamers on the side; baby potatoes are like balloons of hot air. I use the fork to cut them in half and it goes through them like a knife through butter, the steam whiffing me like a right-hook. I drench the spuds in the now congealed sauce and it delivers in terms of flavor.
The wedge of corn fairs no different. Same with the bell peppers, tomatoes and squash.
“Well? What do you think? Do you like it?”
Despite its aesthetics, it’s clearly tasty. Never judge a book by its cover.
"It's pretty good."
She beams.
"I'm glad!"
Marcus stops by and refills my glass of water again, seemingly becoming less and less afraid to approach the middle-aged bald man that's paying his bills.
"So what were you going to tell me earlier?"
I know better than to think that Jenny would've forgotten the reel I threw in earlier. It suddenly becomes hard to eat as my appetite wanes.
She looks at me while eating, which only further adds to the hesitation.
"You have to promise me that you won't get mad."
The statement causes her to put her fork down and focus all her attention to me.
S**t. S**t.
At this rate, my heart is pounding through my chest. My hands are clammy and I feel cold.
"Last night, I -"
I can feel my lips tremble. The thoughts of me downing bottle after bottle of alcohol like some rabid beast terrify me. Like a starving child, I overindulged. There's a reason they call liquor "poison" because it'll kill you. If not quickly but very slowly.
She waits patiently, her fingers interlocked with one another. I get the impression that somehow, she already knows. She's always been very intuitive and wise for her age and I don't have the best poker face either.
"I drank. Again."
Her lips curl up as she processes what I said in her head. I can't even look at her in the face. I've never felt such shame and embarrassment as I do now. I can feel her gaze and it's uncomfortable. The longer she sits in silence, the worse I feel.
"Six months. Six months and I threw it all away."
I get to urge to pound the table but we're in public and I won't embarrass her again.
"Well, I appreciate you being honest with me. We all trip and fall sometimes but it's about how we react to our mistakes that make us better."
She could be a therapist if she really tried. The lively atmosphere behind us isn't enough to cut the friction in the air. She's not upset but I can see it in her eyes that she's disappointed.
I don't blame her on bit.
"Why did you drink again?"
"You know why."
"Because of Drakz?"
I hate the guy and I hate hearing his name even more.
"Dad, I'll be fine. I think a guy like Drakz is all bark and no bite."
She's wrong. Way wrong.
"He stole Frank's car, Jenny. He was mere inches away from Frank's baby girl. You don't know what he is capable of!"
She sighs, acknowledging that I'm right.
"Dad, I won't let myself get taken advantage of. I'm not a little girl anymore."
She'll always be my little girl.
She is why I fight and she is why I will go berserk when she is threatened. My old temper subsided once I got older but after Dallas, something triggered it to come back in full force. She was threatened by a lunatic and I failed to stop him.
I might as just given Jenny away at that point since her own father can't protect her. Take that with watching your hero get her head caved in - it's a lot for a little girl.
Then she gets kidnapped by that f**king Destroyer and my worst fear comes true.
It's all a cycle and I was stuck in an infinite loop and right when I thought that I had gotten out of it, Drakz had to go and say what he did and then it led to me drinking again.
The cycle continues.
I spill everything for her and she doesn't react. She just tries makes sense of it all silently per the expression on her face.
"My mission as your father is to protect you and keep you safe. When I lost to Needles, I failed as a father. When Destroyer took you, I –“
That too causes her to feel uneasy as she turns her head and looks down at the floor.
“I thought I had lost you and that….that he would hurt you.”
I really want to cry but I can't. A father never cries in front of his daughter. I have to remain strong.
“I failed as a father, so I started drinking again to numb myself and the pain. I lost control so I felt like garbage. Drinking helped me cope with....the feelings.”
I see Jenny frown. Despite everything she’s been through, she’s unfazed by it all. That or she’s compartmentalized it better than I did.
“You didn’t fail, dad. You fought as hard as you could. What happened in Dallas – yeah, it sucked but I got over it. A lot of…..things have happened to us recently but I got over it.”
“You were kidnapped!”
I catch myself raising my voice.
"But I wasn't hurt. That's the positive outlook you need. When Mesh got her nose broken, what did she do? She laughed it off. She didn't let that stop her from coming back the next show and kicking ass!"
She's becoming more and more like Mesh everyday. I'm glad that weirdo has given Jenny a sense of identity and direction. Mesh speaks to her in ways I never will and I'm grateful for that. It takes balls to laugh at your own pain and failures.
She's right though.
“I won't let what happened to me define me. I'm much stronger than that. Maybe you should too. Otherwise, you’ll always be this way…..and I don't want to see you like this, daddy. I was raised by a badass soldier that kicks ass in the ring! Who you've become now isn't you."
I reach out and grab her hand, fighting back tears. She’s so strong. I raised my girl to be tough but even she fights back tears.
“You lost to Needles, so what? Mesh lost to Anna and you two are still my biggest inspirations.”
Another shot to the gut from Jennifer Broom but I don’t sell it.
"Even if you lose to Drakz and don't win the belt, you'll still be my dad and I'll still love you. I just want you to come home in one piece and not paralyzed or...."
I can imagine a bloodied, nearly dead Mesh comes to mind.
“Mesh taught me to always be myself, regardless of what people may say. You taught me how to be strong. The fact that both you and her are still alive after going through so much says it all. That’s why I love you both.”
It's too much. I start bawling. So does Jenny. I get up from my chair and hug her as tightly as I can.
"I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm sorry for putting you through so much. I really want to change, baby but it's hard."
"Don't change for me, dad. Change because you want to."
I hold back the urge to just wail like a baby but goddamn, how can I not? I put my girl through hell and at the end of the day, I'm still the cool dad. I'm still someone that she looks up to. I thought I had truly lost her but to know that I never did - f**k.
It could all end right here, and I'll be happy.
"Everything happens for a reason. Maybe there's a reason you lost at SuperBrawl. Maybe there's a reason you started drinking. Maybe there's a reason why you didn't go to prison. All of this made us stronger in the end. It made you a better wrestler!"
She's brilliant. I put myself down, buried with my head in the sand and only she is the one that managed to pull me out and build me back up. Since everything happened, I keep thinking to myself - why?
I should've bled to death after trying to kill myself.
I should be in prison for attempted murder.
I should be paralyzed after my match with Zmey.
But I'm not.
There's something bigger than me at play here. Something that put me through so much to get here: with my daughter, my pride and joy, out of the darkness and finally seeing that light at the end of the darkest tunnels.
"I forgive you, daddy. For everything. I love you!"
I hold her tighter as I bawl into her shoulders.
"I love you too, baby!"
The restaurant appears to grow brighter, and the music seems to be louder following her response. It's like the saturation of everything was suddenly turned up because it's not as gloomy in the air. The weight that I've been dragging for so long....gone. My breathing suddenly slows down, and my back straightens out.
Like a gust of wind, I can feel the dread and fear leave my body.
I feel like the old me again. I'm not moody or angry.
I'm.....happy. I wipe the tears from the eyes with all but a smile on my face. Jenny does too.
"Don't ever put yourself down like that again, okay? Go kick Drakz’s ass!"
She then does her best Christa Adina impression.
“And the newwwwwwwwwwwwwww WFWF International Champion, Billy Brooooommmmm!”
I laugh. For the first time in a long time, I laugh.
*
Interlude III: The Fog Descends
So it finally comes down to this, Drakz.
The Janitor versus The A**hole.
One-on-one for the belt.
It feels like we’ve been on a collision course for a long time now. The timing or the situation wasn’t always right and quite frankly, I was willing to let it go and never give you the free rent in my head that you were so desperate for but then you had to go and say what you said about my daughter then all that rage came back. The side of me that I’ve tried so hard to suppress.
Like Jekyll, my Hyde emerged, my ugly side. The side of me that has no remorse or compassion for the amount of pain that I inflict. It’s the same mindset that allowed me to come home from the service.
That killer instinct. Where your knack for survival kicks in and it's every man for himself and in this fight, I will be the one that survives. The problem with people like you is that you get too comfortable. It's like when you have a job that you absolutely despise. you'll keep going because it's what you do.
The problem with that is when things change, you aren't always ready and it catches you off guard.
That's the trap that many have fallen into when facing you - they choke.
They realize that they're going to square up with a titan and they lose, before the bell even rings because you know what buttons to push. You're damn good at that.
But I'm Hercules. I put down the dragon and I will put you down as well. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, I'm not like the other names on your list. I'm not a trained wrestler, I'm not a diddler, I'm not a drug abuser, I'm nothing like the pieces of trash that you've faced before. I'm the wildcard. The thing you don't expect because you're comfortable. You're going into this match with zero expectations of me because well - you're Drakz.
But I'm a fighter. I'm a soldier. I was bred to take damage and inflict damage. I'm a pitbull and you got me rabid.
I did something that Frank and the almighty Drakz couldn't do - I pinned Tugarin Zmey. I don’t give a f**k if you had a hand in that win. I still beat the motherf**ker clean. I didn’t need handcuffs. I didn’t need the ring steps. I beat Zmey because I was stronger. And tougher.
I didn't run like the bitch you are. You know me, Drakz - I don't back down from anyone and I sure as hell ain't backing down from you.
Franchise, Destroyer, EBR - they all pick and choose when they want to fight you. I’m the only motherf**ker that’s willing to fight you NOW.
Not in two months.
Not on a future date.
Now.
I went to Carrot Top and asked him for a match right then and there after you ran your mouth because I don't let s**t slide. I don't attack from behind, I come at you head-on like a raging bull. Well Drakz - you're in my way. You've always been in my way and now it's time I go through you.
You’re mine, Drakz and I’m coming to fight.
You have this little ultimatum where if you lose, you retire. You’re done. You leave.
So I have to beat you, Drakz.
You’ve been the source of misery for so many people that I would doing the world a favor by putting you down for good. You will NEVER speak about my daughter that way again. It's the only way that the WFWF will be healthy again - by cutting off the cancer, squashing the leech, impaling the vampire, killing the jackal that has used and exploited the company for his own personal gain. I was there during the New Epoch days, in the background, watching you, studying you and never again will I allow three tyrants, mad with power to run amok, leaving nothing but destruction and fragility in its path.
I WILL beat you, Drakz.
I WILL become the new International Champion.
I WILL prevail.
It'll come to fruition, everything that I've been through, everything that has been leading up to this when I'm the one left standing with your title, leaving you with NOTHING! I will bring back the prestige and integrity to the International Championship that Frank Lynn brought to it.
In the history books when people look back and reminiscence on the greatness that was your career, it won't have the grand, epic ending that I'm sure you want. No, no - you don't get to just lay in the middle of the ring with your eyes closed as the show fades to black. Not you.
Drakz doesn't go out in a blaze of glory.
He gets beat by the f**king janitor!