raise your weapon.

[chaos lite]

raise your weapon,
raise your weapon, and it's over...
how does it feel now to watch it burn...
burn...
burn...?

nov.17.twelve7:58pm

I am Aubrey J. Parker.

I know this usually isn’t what we do. This isn’t usually my thing, talking to you guys, but this is a big deal and I didn’t feel right leaving this journey in the narrative hands of Cassandra McPherson. I wanted to be the one to tell you about what led to my one on one match with my mentor, Logan Alexander.

It’s going to be my most difficult task as the North American Champion yet, and I wanted to make sure that these final forty-eight hours were seen from my own eyes.

So I suppose we should start from Saturday night, where I stood in Cassandra’s dining room, staring blankly down at my phone as it vibrated, moving roughly across the table with each second I let the call go unanswered.

Heels clicked across the tile and eventually Cassandra joined me, groaning as she asks ”What the hell is that?” but she stopped when she looked at the name that popped up under missed calls.

LOGAN

”Um... You realize you just missed Logan’s call, right?”

”Yeah. Let him see how it feels getting ignored for once.”

I said it with as much bitterness as I could muster, but I scowled at Cassandra when she laughed a little bit to the side of me.

”Really? Really, Aubs? Logan isn’t going to be fazed by that, like you might be. I hope you’ve figured out by now that he’s going to try his best to win this match. And... He’s probably not half as broken up about what he has to do as you are.”

I hated her for being right. I loved her for saying what I didn’t necessarily want to.

”You know... I haven’t had a drink in almost a week now.”

Cassandra gasped dramatically and threw her hands up to her cheeks.

”Oh my God, either you’re dying, or you decided to give two shits about your liver.”

I laughed at it. Rude, maybe, but if I couldn’t joke about it with Cass, who could I joke with? I turned away from the table, leading the way to her living room. After a day of running and forcing my muscles to shriek with terror, the last thing I wanted to do was stand.

”I haven’t trained with Logan in almost a month. So I pushed myself the way he would’ve pushed me if he were here... Every day.”

”Ew, I know. Your bedroom smells like sweat. You’re such a dyke.”

”Small price to pay I guess.”

”Yeah... Come to think of it, all you’re doing anymore is working out. When’s the last time you’ve eaten a real-- ooooh, can we have steak? Can I make you a steak? I bet Logan never grilled you meat.”

Eccentricity; it was admirable.

Again, I laughed at her suggestion. I had intended to say something, but now that I’d rediscovered the luxury of a La-Z Boy, I suddenly found myself at a comical loss for words for a few seconds.

”Maybe tomorrow. I’m not really too hungry tonight.”

”Good. We don’t wanna be bloated at the club, do we?”

It was then that my eyes traveled down to those out-of-place heels she was wearing. I sat up abruptly.

”Why are you wearing heels?”

”Did I stutter, bitch? We’re going out and you’re going to enjoy yourself. I am NOT going to let you become one of those sad stories on ESPN... A former wrestler that drove herself crazy and got addicted to pills or something, gained forty pounds, got married to a bottle of liquor, and started doing $20 bookings in high school gyms. Nuh-uh. No friend of mine.”

”That’s uh, sweet, Cass. I mean that. But do you seriously think this is an appropriate time?”

”I... Yes.”

”...Can we do shots?”

”Yes.”

I was sold.



nov.25.eleven

”Maybe the timing is a bit out of place. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to show you what happened when Cass and I went out to the nightclub. I don’t know... But now is as good a time as any.

I wanted to give you guys some insight on why I don’t trust Sienna Harrison. On Monday night, my title is on the line but... The decision of this match lies entirely in her hands and that scares the hell out of me. It scares me because I don’t know what her motives are. She hates Logan, and she has history with him. She hates me... And she’s hated me for years. You’ll see that in the video.

She has nothing to lose from this. She has nothing to gain from either one of us picking up the win.

I don’t know what she wants.

It’s fucking terrifying, not knowing.”

It was an hour or so after Thanksgiving dinner last year. It marked the third, and the last dinner that I ever spent with the Harrison family. Interestingly, it was the first time Sienna Harrison had been there that I could remember.

We were doing dishes, yellow rubber gloves and all. I remember turning the sink on and sliding a plate under the faucet to rinse the soap off, and the hot water splashed-- not a troubling amount, but literally drops onto Sienna’s bare forearm. She gasped and jumped back, dropping a wine glass to the ground. It shattered and I jumped as well, dropping the plate noisily into the sink and throwing a hand over my heart.

”Crap! Sienna, I’m sorry--”

”You are such an idiot. You’re washing dinner plates, not performing surgery.”

I glared at her but tried my best to bite my tongue.

”Okay, fuck my ‘sorry’ then. Bitch.”

I told you. I tried my best.

”You know... I tried my best to figure out why my brother’s been with you for the past three years and I think I figured it out tonight.

Neither one of you is going anywhere anytime soon, and you’re comfortable with that. He’s going to SCW and what’s he gonna find there, especially with you tagging along for the ride? You can’t do anything right. You couldn’t manage his career, you CAN’T manage your own, and you can’t even wash a fucking dinner plate.”

I didn’t give her much of a reaction. I remembered all the things I wanted to say, but I didn’t say them. I knew that this moment was coming, and it just happened to be now that it all came out. She used a drop of water splashing onto her skin as an excuse to finally unload on me. I felt like a child, being yelled at by a stranger.

”I never liked you.”

She turned away from me in a huff and marched toward the broom and dustpan. I stared after her for a second with my mouth opened as if to say something and she looked at me, challenging me, daring me to say a word.

And I didn’t. I never responded.



nov.18.twelve2:23am

I fell sloppily onto my bed. My hair was a mess, and my makeup probably wasn’t doing its job at this point. The form-fitting black dress I'd been wearing had likely risen well past my hips and I was thankful that I made habit of wearing underwear. I refused to fall victim to paparazzi like many women before me.

I was comfortable on the bed for a few seconds but Cassandra stormed into the room, bare heels thumping across the floor. She pushed me over and I suddenly felt a brief urge to vomit, throwing my hands to my stomach.

She placed a glass of water down on the nightstand and sat next to me, glaring down at me though she still looked much prettier than I suppose I did. Her dress was still snug in all the right places and her makeup wasn’t running down her face.

”You didn’t eat all day, and you went out and decided to drink.”

”It was your idea.”

”Shut up! Goddamnit, you're so ugh. What's your deal? And I swear to God if you say Logan.”

So I made the motion of “zipping” my lips.

”You’ve got to be kidding. So-- what, he’s driven you to anorexia?”

”No. I was just trying to...”

”To what? I’ll fucking kill Logan for you.”

”Cass, you don’t know. You don’t have to fight dudes every day. You just have to balance peoples’ checkbooks. I’m just trying to make sure I stay in shape. I need to stay on their level. I need to stay on his level.”

Cassandra sighed and shook her head. I looked up at her through my foggy, drunken vision and did my best to execute a glare.

”And, real talk... You’re just mad because you didn’t get to take home that, gulp Russian dude. Sorry I fucked up your plans. Gulp. Alright?”

That was it. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I threw the top half of my body over the edge of my body, and like a champ, Cassandra slid to the floor and pulled the trash can beneath my head, springing up a second later to gather my hair in both hands and hold it behind me.

I’ll spare you the details.

I settled back down with my head against the pillow and Cassandra got in my face, looking far more annoyed than I guess I assumed she ever would be.

”You need to do something soon. You need to decide if you’re going to be in charge of your career, or if you’re going to let it destroy you. Because I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t want this to become a habit when we’re in our thirties.

The longer I travel with you guys, the less I like Logan. I don’t like what he’s done to you, and we’re both kidding ourselves if we say that this isn’t because of him. You’re right... I don’t get it, because I’m an accountant, and you’re a wrestler. I’m not defending my North American Title against Logan this Monday. You are. But you know what? I have the luxury of an outsider’s perspective.”

”And you use it to judge me.”

Cassandra shook her head and backed away a little.

”I use it to help. Everything Logan’s done, I think he did knowing that it’s going to hurt you. Why would he only reach out to you days before your match? Where was he after you won the title, and before your tag team match?

You can’t trust these people. Not Sienna, and not Logan. Not even TJ and Williams. You chose this path and you went down a road where you have to look over your shoulder at every turn because everyone really is out to get you. People die in their forties when they wrestle, Aubrey, because they do the same shit you do, after somebody pushes them over the edge.

And from what I’ve seen? You’re dangerously close to getting shoved. Either by Sienna, Logan, or yourself. So I’m going let you sleep, babydoll. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll remember everything I said and you’ll take it to heart. I won’t be here when you wake up, and I won’t be there for your match, but I hope you win. I really do.

But I hope you don’t kill yourself doing it. I hope you don’t let someone push you that far.”

Cassandra got up and walked to the door but gave me another long glance before she closed it.

”Especially if it’s Logan.”

I raised my eyes to meet hers once more before she pulled the door shut.



nov.18.twelve11:23am

Two glasses of water and two cups of coffee were what it took to get me from my bed, to the living room where a tripod was set up, already stationed. This wasn’t entirely true, of course... There was a side journey to the bathroom where I came face to face with a toilet bowl, where I feel I discovered a good bit about myself.

Some people call it a hangover, but today I called it soul searching.

I must’ve looked a mess. I had no makeup on, and my hair was tangled and strewn about. It was partially a fuck you to those looking for some sort of sex appeal, but partially a legitimate inability to dress myself as of yet. I still had a blanket draped over my shoulders, but the most important thing was... I knew exactly what was on my mind.

”I think I’m in trouble.”

I laughed a little and lowered my head, but kept speaking with my tired, strained voice.

”Logan. I don’t know what to expect going to Meltdown this Monday, and one time... A fantastic wrestler that reminds me a lot of you, named Buck Dempsey, told me that not knowing what to expect was what put the thrill in wrestling.

I took those words and I tried my best to live by them these past few weeks after not knowing where you were or what to think about the future of M&M and I found that after a while, that was difficult, because you are the only person I’ve ever put any substantial amount of trust in, in over a year. When it comes to me and you, not knowing what to expect could be dangerous.

Not knowing what to expect could be the difference between a clean match, and a predetermined ending that ends with Sienna handing you my championship.”

I paused and let that thought register in my own head. It literally sent a pain rushing behind my eyes to even fathom that she could take away from me what I worked so hard to win.

”I’d like to think that no matter how much either one of us wants this title, it could never quite come to that. I want to think that you’re never going to stab me in the back for a victory, regardless of how much this one on one match in general means to us.

I know better. I know that you’d never do that.

I’m not quite sure if you’d stop Sienna if she tried to cross me though. You say that you would, but I have no way of fucking knowing what you’ve changed about your approach to wrestling over these past two weeks. A lack of communication is really scary, and it really drives a wedge between teammates. It’s driven a wedge between us and I feel left out.”

I took a deep breath and continued.

”And I think that if I let you beat me on Monday and take my title from me, I wouldn’t want to speak to you. I would congratulate you, and I’d turn around and avoid you. I don’t think I could handle losing this the same way you could, Logan. I--”

With a little squeak, my words were caught in my throat. I cleared it and adjusted myself on the couch.

”I don’t want to have to face you, and no matter how good of a match I know we’d put on and how much of an honor this should be, nothing’s been able to change that. You’re my tag team partner. We’re a match away from finally getting the Tag Team Title match we’ve been dying for. I don’t want to fight you.

But... Fuck... Logan. I don’t want to lose this title. I won’t lose this title.”

I don’t know how convincing I sounded. Perhaps more convincing than I looked, hungover and couch-ridden.

”You always told me that you didn’t want me to hold back when it came down to you and I in the ring... It’s come close, but it’s never come to the point where we had to launch a full assault on one another. Every time I was faced with this problem before, I could never give a definitive answer when asked what I would do when I had to fight you.

Every time there was even the possibility that we’d face, I didn’t know how I’d react and I didn’t know what I would do.

This time around, I can say with full confidence that on Monday when you and I go to lock up after that opening bell, I...”

I sighed.

”...Don’t know.

I’m not sure if I have what it takes to outwrestle you and I don’t know how Sienna’s going to affect the outcome of this match.

I do know that October 28th was the proudest moment of my life so far, and it’s not just because I beat six other people to become the fourth North American Champion. It’s because at the end of the night, after the referee raised my hand in victory, you came back to the ring and you did the same thing. By one of us winning, both of us had won. We’d pushed each other to do our very best, and I can only hope that we do the same thing this Monday.

I hope that regardless of who wins the match, we leave that ring as a team, no matter how hard it might be.

The only thing, Logan, is that regardless of that witch’s agenda, I plan on walking out of Salem with the North American Title. You’ll try to stop me, and I’ll do my absolute best to put you down.

I’ll hit you with the Makeunder. I’ll lock in the Sugar & Spice. The Koji Clutch.

I’ll do whatever it takes, and I hope that after I win, you’re proud of me. Still.”

I stood up and proceeded to walk to the tripod to end the feed. I kneeled down in front of the camera and looked through, toward Logan, with uncertainty.

”And I hope that whatever happens between now and the closing bell doesn’t tear us apart... Like they want it to.”


fin.