Post by Kurt on Feb 6, 2013 13:53:15 GMT -4
January 29th, 2013
4 Hours After S&C
“Did I kill him?”
The words stab through the still air, slicing through the steady beep of the heart rate monitor, and piercing the heavy, drooping eyes of Kylie Demens. She jolts to attention in the corner chair of the hospital room, her dark eyes instantly snapping towards the man in the hospital bed.
“You’re awake!” Kylie breathes with a sigh of relief. She moves to his side, her eyes scanning over Kurt Noble’s face.
“How are you feel-“
“Did I kill him?”
Despite his shut eyes, composed breathing, and docile body hidden beneath the sheets, the question emits with a vocal certainty that causes Kylie to gulp, rather loudly.
“I don’t know.”
Beep.
Noble’s left eye finally opens, and scans his surroundings with little hesitation. His gaze becomes strained by the overbearing hospital lights. Kylie stares down at him, and slowly touches his blood-stained brown hair.
“I was worried about you for a while,” she murmurs, stroking him like she would a small child. “You were bleeding out fast, and the doctors weren’t sure if there was internal-“
“How is he?”
Again, the question juxtaposes Noble’s condition.
“He’s in surgery right now,” Kylie replies somewhat hesitantly. “We won’t know the extent of his condition for a while now; personally, I’m upset he didn’t hit the ground-“
Noble snaps his neck towards Kylie…but the mistake blasts his eye wide open, and he clutches the sheets in pain!
“Hmmhmh!” he groans as his fingers twist on the sheets. He glances down at his bandaged fingers. With every attempt at moving, he winces; every flexing of the fingers is met with an equal jolt in his eyes.
“I can’t move my legs,” Noble mumbles as he glances down at his blanketed legs. Kylie’s eyes move from his face to his legs.
“They had to perform some…minor surgery,” she murmurs. Noble reaches for the blankets.
Beep.
“The doctor said not to move!” Kylie urges as she positions his arms back by his side. As she positions him back, Kylie’s eyes lock on the right side of his face. Noble catches her stare.
“What?” he asks.
“It’s nothing; just a few scratches and-“
“Mirror.”
“Kurt, it’s really something you can look at when you’re-“
“Mirror.”
Kylie pauses in motion…before reaching into her leather purse, and pulling out a small hand-mirror. She shakily hands to Noble. He holds it up to his face.
“Well…isn’t that interesting.”
Beep
-
-
-
-
-
January 30th, 2013
9:45 AM
“Just tell me whether or not he’s going to be able to walk again!”
Kylie’s tone is lioness-like, ripping the attention of the young, busy-body doctor away from his clipboard. The doctor peers in through the cracked door towards an unmoving, slumbering Kurt Noble.
“It’s complicated,” he replies. “In theory, yes; in a few weeks’ time, and after a few rounds of physical therapy, Mr. Parker should be in condition to resume his normal physical activities. The facial lacerations with heal, and most of his hearing should return; the burn on his leg is what concerns me. There’s nerve damage, and taking it even somewhat lightly could mean the difference between running again, or being wheelchair-bound.”
“So, hypothetically, let’s say Mr. Parker eases his way *gently* back into physical activity, by, let’s say… February the 8th? That’s a week and a half. How would that work into his recovery?”
The doctor’s eyebrows could not be further up on his face. “Is that a joke? Mr. Parker needs at least a week of bed rest. I also looked over his file; I know what Mr. Parker does for a living, and I would hardly consider anything in his profession gentle. If he engages his regular level of physical activity so soon…he might not walk away.”
Kylie nods, her eyes darting back and forth in her head. The doctor peers back in, watching Noble as he gazes out the window.
“Excuse me. I, uh…need to make a phone call. Outside, of course!”
Kylie skirts away at a brisk pace as the doctor knocks on, and enters through the door to Noble’s hospital room; the APW Megastar remains unwavering.
“Mr. Parker,” he declares softly, with no response. “I’m glad to see that you slept somewhat peacefully during the night. The first night is always tough when dealing with contusions and burns. How is your face feeling?”
“Fine.”
The doctor nods, looking back down at his chart.
“We’ll have you back in a week or so to remove the stitches. The lacerations didn’t damage any facial nerves, but you will be wearing a few new scars. We’ll conduct more tests as your hearing improves, but you should regain the majority of it back. I would also recommend seeing an oral surgeon about correcting that broken tooth of yours. The bone contusions will heal with time. The injury that most concerns me…are the burns.”
The doctor shimmies closer to Noble, who is still looking out the window.
“Mr. Parker, you suffered a mix of second and third degree burns to your knee and thigh areas; we’re preparing skin grafts to repair most of the superficial damage, but you have damaged nerves in your legs. You’ll need physical therapy to strengthen those nerves, and constant cleaning and antibiotics to ensure there’s no infection.”
His eyes drift over towards Noble’s IV, specifically to a clear bag labeled…
Morphine.
“The pain is going to be severe Mr. Parker. I’ve already discussed the ramifications with your wife-“
Noble scoffs, his first visual reaction; the doctor continues.
“I’m going to recommend you make use of the morphine while you’re here; I’m also going to prescribe you a round of hydrocodone to combat the-“
“No.”
Noble turns towards the doctor, giving the first full look at his face. His right side is fully bandaged, decorated with the occasional bits of dried blood drops, ranging from ear to nose; his right eye is completely bloodshot. Noble shakes his head.
“No morphine,” he replies as the doctor simply stares at him.
“You don’t want to be in pain…do you Mr. Parker?” asks the doc, causing another reaction from Noble…
A chuckle.
“Pain?” Noble asks. “I’ve got scars like bikers have tattoos…
“My joints barrage me with their screams all day long…
“I’ve got about as much cartilage in my knee as you’ve got in your hair….and now the other’s one’s burned.
“Look at me doc…
Noble grins as he lies back, closing his eyes, a wince hidden amongst his movement.
“All I’ve got left is pain.”
-
-
-
-
-
January 31st, 2013
3:45 PM
“Have you really lost your fucking mind this time?”
One of Noble’s eyes jumps open, leaning towards the ajar doorway, where standing is the former manager of Kurt Noble…Alexander Monkwood. His back may be towards Noble, but his crossed arms and snappish, yet whisperish tone are clear as can be.
“He’s going to be fine!” Kylie answers, hidden from view. “He’s got a left to recover, and he’s already been moving-“
“What, his finger-tips? Maybe some neck action? You think putting him in the ring against Delikado is going to put him in marathon-ready mode? I ain’t no Dcotor Phil, but that’s some ole bullshit right there-“
“Kurt has beaten Delikado time and time again, not just in APW, but all over,” retorts Kylie, as a foot-stomp echoes in the hallway. “100%, 50%, or 5%, he’ll be ready. Let’s face it: Delikado isn’t getting any younger, especially with all those drugs-“
“And neither is Kurt,” Monkwood interjects. “And I’m pretty sure Kurt didn’t have the week off like Delikado did; Deli may have lit it up the weekend, but Kurt literally got lit up!”
“Once Kurt sees that this opportunity can net him the Overdrive title back, he’ll be ready to go at that Cuban son of a bitch! He wins the title, trades it in for an Undisputed title shot, and climbs back up the mountain again!”
Monkwood shakes his head as he glances back at Noble, who promptly puts his head back on the pillow.
“That boy spent the last half a year chasing a twenty pound piece of gold. You know what that cost him? Everyone in APW hates him. Jeff doesn’t trust him. His wife is afraid of him. His best friend tries to kill him. Have you asked Kurt if he wants to climb that mountain again?”
“This isn’t your call Dad!” Kylie bellows, breaking the whisper-yelling, resorting to actual yelling. “You were FIRED! Remember?!”
“Every day,” Monkwood sighs. “You’ve lead that kiddo down a dark path, and I don’t think there’s any coming back…especially when he learns about Chris.”
Noble’s eyes jut open, as his heart rate monitor increases in pace…
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
“I’ve got it under control-“
“And how’s that going to work-out when you tell Kurt that Chris is off the radar? His family moved him to a private hospital, and quite frankly, I don’t know that he’s as badly as hurt as the media’s reporting! He certainly ain’t dead! He’ll be back Darling…and if he does, he’ll be back for Kurt.”
“And when he does, Kurt will make sure he doesn’t come back this time.”
Monkwood remains sedentary, before placing his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, which she quickly shakes off.
“This isn’t a joke anymore Kylie; people’s lives are on the table now. Those two will keep this Hell going until one of them ends up dead. If you let Kurt step back into that ring…
“It won’t be Delikado that kills him…
‘Might not even be Chris Hart that kills him….
“You’ll kill him.”
Monkwood turns back to gaze at Noble, who remains inattentive as his head rests against his pillow.
“He’s not my client anymore; I tried to teach that kiddo to make his own decisions, good or bad. I know you’ve never wanted my advice, but here it is: Tell Kurt the truth. About Amy. About Terry Marvin. About Chris Hart. Then, let him make his own choices…while he still can.”
He sighs, and walks out of the doorway. Noble’s eyes slide open, and he clutches his covers near his burned leg.
-
-
-
-
-
February 2nd, 2013
11:28 AM
“You’re free to go, Mr. Parker.”
Noble’s gaze remains fixated on the doorway as he’s wheeled by the nurse, with Kylie Demens pacng quickly behind him. The APW Megastar’s eyes drift as he’s pushed out into the muggy London air. Kylie and the nurse begin to assist Noble up as a limo pulls into the pick-up lane, but Noble ignores them. He lifts himself up, his leg brace preventing him from standing correctly.
“Mr. Parker, we can surely help you into-“
“I’m fine.”
Noble balances on one leg, the muscles in his face bubbling as he opens the limo door himself. He slides in, and Kylie comes in quickly afterwards. However, before the door closes, a voice emits from the hospital.
“Mr. Parker!”
Noble’s eyes move back to the nurse, who holds a rather bountiful display of sunflowers, lilies, and daises in a bouquet. She approaches the limo, and holds it through the window.
“We finally found the flowers that that young blonde girl dropped off a few days ago! I swear, they kept getting moved around! She didn’t leave a name though, but she sure seemed like a sweet little thing!”
Kylie’s eyes burn as Noble awkwardly takes the flowers. Kylie knocks on the front window.
“Drive.”
The limo moves into motion, and Kylie slumps back into her seat, her hair a frizzy, tangled mess.
“I am SO glad this nightmare is over,” she asserts with a sigh. “I’m telling you, hopsitals just feel like death. I swear, nobody ever lives in a hospital; they’re all gloomy and shit-“
“When were you going to tell me?”
His tone shakes Kylie for the third time. However, she keeps an unknowing look across her face.
“Tell you what?” she asks.
“That Chris Hart survived the fall. That you booked me in a match for Overdrive. That my wife send me flowers.”
Noble’s mouth is inches from a snarl as he stares down his tiny manager, making her twiddle her thumbs, refusing to meet the unrestrained stare of Noble.
“I, uh…I just wanted to wait,” she mumbles as the fidgeting continues.
“Until what? I asked?”
She leans forward, touching Noble’s palm.
“You were in so much pain. I felt like you were trying to tear off your leg while you slept. I didn’t want to put any thoughts in your head while you were trying to recover-“
Noble scoffs.
“Recover for what? Delikado? Chris Hart? Is that what you want? You want me to go out there, and twist Delikado’s ankle until it breaks…like it’s some kind of message? I’ve got a message for you Kylie…
“I tried to KILL Chris Hart…and he survived.”
“This wasn’t trying to pin Johnny Rebel. This wasn’t trying to break a bone in Terry Marvin’s body. This wasn’t shot-talking Delikado. This was trying to kill a man that was once my best friend. It wasn’t this pain that made me sleep uneasy; it was hearing that sound…
“That crash of Chris Hart hitting the car.
‘I mean, Goddamn…that’s what I wanted, right? Chris Hart gone forever? Isn’t that what WE wanted?”
Noble leans in towards Kylie, who remains silent.
“It was…necessary to getting back to Terry Marvin-“
“Terry Marvin.” Noble covers his mouth. “Terry Marvin doesn’t give two shits about me. Maybe at one time, he was the light at the end of the tunnel…but that tunnel started getting narrower. It got longer. Then Chris Hart stepped in the way. Then Jeff stepped in the way. Now apparently Delikado is in the way! Kylie…what the fuck am I running towards? And more importantly…what am I not seeing in this picture?”
Noble’s eyes scan over the flowers, and then back to Kylie.
“Tell me the truth; is my marriage, my career, my Goddamn life just a big joke/i] to you?”
Kylie’s face reddens as she reaches into her purse.
“You are talking nonsense!” she spouts as she pulls out a small bottle. “We’ll be at the airport soon, and I don’t want to hear ANY of this when we get back home. I’m getting you something for the plane ride, and then I’ll enjoy the silence. Maybe it’s not what I deserve after MONTHS of service, but it’ls what I’ve got!”
She shoves a white bottle towards Noble, eliciting a scowl.
“Take. One.” She demands.
Noble stares down at the bottle…before cocking a half-grin.
“As you wish.”
Noble takes the bottle, pops it open, and tips two pills into his palm. He hoists them up for Kylie to see, and downs them.
“Good,” she says. “Now, you need to rest. This match with Delikado determines whether we go up or down from here…so you better be ready. You can rest, train, whatever…but don’t do something stupid before Overdrive. Promise?
She flares her nostrils, and closes her eyes as she leans back in her seat.
Suddenly, Noble coughs, putting his hand to his mouth. Kylie, with her eyes still closed, hands him a water bottle. As he opens it…he drops the two little pills in the floorboard. He kicks them under the driver’s seat, watching at Kylie nods off.
“Promise.”
-
-
-
February 4th, 2013
10:43 PM
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Despite the tried-and-true jukebox music blasting through the bar, the sound of Noble’s cane thumping against the ground still draws eyes to the Megastar. Some of the eyes are drawn to his black leather jacket and denim jeans. Others go to his now exaggerated limp, met with a wince with every step. However, most eyes, including the bartender’s, go to Noble’s bandaged face as he sits down at the counter.
“You look like you left half your face on the side-walk outside,” she remarks as her eyes scan over the white bandages concealing half his face. Noble slides a twenty across the counter.
“Keep the drinks coming, and you might see my stomach too!” he gibes sarcastically as he analyzes the crowded bar around him. However, his eyes get stuck on the woman sitting to his side, staring at rugged (but not bandaged) face.”
“I always liked a man with a few scars,” remarks the dark-skinned woman, eyeing him up and down. Noble takes his first drink, and shrugs.
“Then you’d love me. I’ve got plenty of scars…like the scars from my Oxycodone addiction. Or, the scars from my best friend and I trying to kill one another; I did throw him off a building after all! Oh, I bet you’d love the ones I got from beating my wife…but she’s divorcing me soon, so that one’s healing! Or maybe you’d like this one here…I got it from completely screwing up everything in my life.”
Noble turns, revealing his bandaged half. The woman’s smile fades instantly.
“But you know what I like? Someone I can party with. Hell, maybe that’s what I need! I know some guys, that all they do is party! They’re the ‘boss’ of their entire lives. Money, fame, women…shit, how do some guys do that night in, night out…and sometimes in the morning? Why’s it so Goddamn hard for the rest of us to-“
Noble turns back towards the woman…who appears to have done a Houdini. The blond bar-tender smirks.
“Smooth,” she jests.
“Maybe I should start selling Anti-Valentine’s Day cards,” Noble remarks with a shrug, before downing his drinks. He looks back at the bartender.
“Who is the absolute toughest guy you know in this bar?” he asks, causing the woman’s lips to purse.
“I don’t know who you are mister, but if you’re intending to cause trouble, you best do it outside my bar-“
“I’m not looking for trouble,” Noble responds joyfully. “Just a bit of…understanding.”
The woman’s eyes drift to a few men playing pool in the background. Noble catches her glance, and nods.
“Thanks.”
Before she can interject, Noble is on his feet. He limps over towards the players, and without hesitation, puts his hand on the table…and shifts one of the balls towards the hole! Suddenly, four sets of eyes are burning through the grinning Kurt Noble.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” one of the men grunts as his knuckles clench around his stick. Noble grins as he grabs a stick himself.
“Gentlemen, excuse my rudeness…I’m just playing catch-up is all! Some of us aren’t exactly playing on two feet tonight!” Noble position himself, setting up for a shot. A tall bald man moves towards Noble, but is blocked by a smaller brown hair-man.
“Look dude, this is a private game. You best be gettin’ out of here.”
“Unless you’re a fan of bein’ in pain,” responds the tall man. Noble simply chuckles.
“Pain? Pain? You want to tell me about pain?
“Let me tell you about pain
“Pain is discovering that you had one goal in mind; just one thing in sight for the last year of your life. It was all you dreamed about…and then you finally got it! Pain is the discovery that the thing you wanted the most…
“Is what turns you into a joke
Noble takes a shot, but his ball misses quite clearly. The bald man begins to redden, but continues to listen.
“That’s the funny thing about people. We think everyone else are the bad guys. You think I’m a dick for ruining your game. I think you’re dicks for the looks you gave me when I basically crawled in this dump! We live our entire lives thinking we’re in the right…until one moment shows us we were in the wrong the entire time. One moment is all it takes…
“One little crash.
“But the amazing thing is that some people will never feel that crash. Take this one guy for example: This real Cuban son of a bitch. He’s a guy that just gets it. He pushes me off a ladder, and injures me for life…but the motherfucker doesn’t feel like he owes me anything. He doesn’t cry, or send a card, or flowers. You know that that motherfucker does?
“He laughs.
“Me? I see him laughing at me, and I think he’s a bad guy! I mean, who laughs at a cripple? Who takes genuine joy in making other people’s lives miserable? Who deliberately drives over other people’s cars in a monster truck and thinks that’s okay?
“A real Cuban son of a bitch, that’s who.
“But here’s the thing…this Cuban doesn’t do these things because he enjoys pain. He doesn’t particularly like hurting people. He doesn’t do it because he’d told, either. This son of a bitch hurts people, because he gets it…
“He gets that the rest of us are on some set path, and when things go off track…we panic. We freak the Hell out. We purposefully destroy everything around us…while that son of a bitch is out enjoying a cigar. When shit goes bad, we make shit worse. That separates me and that son of a bitch is the idea that’s two kinds of people…
“There’s people that make the jokes…
“And there’s people that are the jokes.
“When you really, truly, enjoying hurting people…you are the joke. You’re not the good guy you thought you were anymore. You tell yourself kicking the dog doesn’t make you a bad person…
“Yeah, it does.
“You tell yourself that this one little fight is going to get your life back on track…
“No, it won’t.
“You tell yourself that the ends will always justify the means…
“Then, you [b[wait[/b].
“Because one day, you’re going to find out whether you’re the kind of person that tells the jokes…or is the joke. You find out whether you like inflicting pain…or you do it because that’s the game. You find out if you’re the ‘good guy,’ or the ‘bad guy.’”
Noble positions for another shot. The bald man moves forward, slamming down the stick!
“And which you are, funny man?” he asks. Noble grins.
“That’s what I’m here to find out…”
Suddenly, Noble grabs a ball, and SLAMS it into the man’s face! Chaos erupts, and within moments, Noble is slammed down by three different men! Noble grabs the nearby pool stick, and whacks two of the men…but a shot to the stomach totally floors Noble again! Suddenly, a voice rings out…
“OUTSIDE!”
The men obey the bartender’s orders, lifting up Noble…and tossing him through the doors! Several of Noble’s bandages have become bloodied. Two of the men lift up Noble as the bald man cracks his knuckles.
“Guess the joke’s on you, crip,” he says. “Guess you’re just the guy on the floor.”
Before Noble can respond….
*POW*
Noble goes down from a shot to the jaw, and ceases moving. The men shake their heads, and walk back in. Suddenly, Noble curls into a small ball…and begins to laugh.
And laugh.
And laugh.
“I guess….it is.”