Post by Evan De Parker on May 1, 2013 18:03:43 GMT -4
Our camera fades into a dimly-lit, sunlight-tainted room.
Our camera is filmed explicitly in a “sepia” tone once our eyes adjust to the scene, and we pan over, past the radio where the music of the Ronettes is playing, and toward a chair where a woman sits cross-legged, beneath a red dress, which is oddly, vibrantly colored in a cinematic world where everything else is blasé.
Jenny Knite.
”So what are you gonna do?”
The music continues to play, in a slower, almost antagonizing fashion, though the true story is on the man seated across from Jenny Knite... Both of them are in old-fashioned, wooden rocking chairs, facing each other, but neither looking into the eyes of the other. Evan is dressed in a black sweater, which seems appropriate considering the scene, with black jeans over his bare feet. He has a bruise beneath his right eye, and stitches above his brow.
”You want me to retaliate?”
”Well, do you know who attacked you...?”
Evan glances up at Jenny and shakes his head.
”No--”
”You’re lying.”
Evan narrows his eyes at Jenny and shakes his head. He glances away from her for a few moments, collecting his thoughts for moments before he speaks up.
”I don’t think you’re in a position to question whether I’m lying or not, Jenny. I pay you to be my agent. My manager. I don’t need you to play sister or mama-bear, because I already have those. So how about... How about we make sure you remember your role, before things get overcomplicated, hm?
“You speak to me about my career, and about my career only. Everything I tell you is the truth. Call me a liar again, and record how many seconds pass before you experience your first-ever medical emergency.”
Jenny stares at Evan with a look of doubt for a moment, but it fades. Like any pleasant thought she was currently retaining in regards to the self-proclaimed “King of Overdrive”, her expressions all-but fade entirely and she takes a deep breath.
”You pay me far too much... For me to be afraid of you.”
”Pardon?”
”I’d like to think that I’m one of the few true friends that you have in this business, Ev, so I’m gonna call you out if I think you’re feeding me shit. And I would hope that I’m working for a man that can respect that, since you pride yourself on real this and real that...”
Evan doesn’t look amused, and simply narrows his eyes at Jenny. ”Tell me more.”
His tone is unsettling, and whether it resonates through the cameras, to our audience, or not, Jenny visibly cringes at his tone, but tries her best to maintain an expression that suggests indifference.
”I think you’re holding back. I think you’re keeping information from me... And that’s your decision. If you feel like that’s what you wanna do-- then fine. But...” She folds her arms and looks at Evan for a few seconds before she speaks, as if trying to decide the most appropriate way to approach him. ”You’re gonna need to talk to somebody about all this stuff in the long run. Every cut, every scrape... Every bruise... Every stitch... Someone’s gonna have to be there, because if they’re not, then you’re just gonna break and--”
”I have Michelle.”
”I mean someone in the business.”
”Then there’s Sienna. Delikado. Christian. Gryphon. Sabra. Hell-- even Carmen.”
”What did I do wrong, exactly, Evan?”
Evan groans and looks up into the air, mouthing obscenities into the heavens before he lowers his gaze toward Jenny, giving her his full attention.
”You didn’t do anything wrong. But... I mean, you’re a kid! You’re my agent! I’m not going to tell you every single deep, dark thought that travels through my fucking mind, alright?”
”I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-- barely four years younger than you. I’ve probably done more in my senior year in high school than you accomplished in your entire college curriculum, so don’t tell ME who I am, Mr. Harrison!”
Evan looks at her in shock. Jenny closes her mouth and her eyes widen just a bit, but she tries to square her shoulders. She tries to tilt her head upward, looking into Evan’s eyes, but the fear is probably evident, for Evan’s long, cold glare is eventually softened by a small, dry laugh.
”I’ve told you that you’re absolutely adorable, right? I’ve told you.”
”You’ve made it known.”
”Don’t... Don’t make me take that away from you.”
Again, Jenny knows that her fear has been made visible as Evan smirks at her from his chair, but it soon gives way to a sigh and he reaches for the radio, rolling the volume down as the voices of the Ronettes fade. He crosses his hands in his laps, staring ahead at Jenny Knite...
Silence.
For a few moments, Jenny is certain that the only sound she can really hear is her uncharacteristically-quick heartbeat. For a while, the two are engaged in what, as a child, Jenny would’ve considered a friendly game... Except, now, as adults, these staredowns always seemed to mean much more. What that is, Jenny couldn’t tell you for the life of her-- she just knows that it does. She just knows that even as her eyes burn, she can sigh in satisfaction as Evan blinks and turns his head as he addresses her.
”What do you want from me, Jenny?”
As if waiting for the question, it spills out of her mouth in one word: ”More.”
Evan’s expression goes blank. To say it was an answer he was expecting would be an understatement.
”I mean, I want to be out there.”
”Come again?”
”Out there with you. I want to be at ringside every week when you’re going up against people like Michael Callahan and Buckson Gooch and... Nathaniel Havok. Remember the last time? We worked so well together-- we were a team without even having to be a team, and you won.”
Evan chuckles slightly. ”That’s true.”
”I don’t get in the way. I don’t cost you matches... All I want to do is be there, in front of the people-- and learn. From you.”
”...This is where I find out that you’re a double agent, working for Nathaniel Havok, and you’re planning on getting me killed on the next episode of Overdrive, right?”
”Foiled again!”
The two exchange a short laugh at the exchange, and the camera pans toward the blinds once more, showing that the sun is beginning to set in the outside world.
”If you wanna be out there that bad... Then fine.”
Jenny nearly squeals with excitement, but Evan winces before she can reach her highest pitch, silencing her with a single raised hand.
”Then this week, we’ll start with Havok. You can come down to ringside and... We’ll handle business.”
The look behind Jenny’s eyes suggests an excitement and a gratitude, rarely seen, even for Evan.
”And after that--?”
”And after that, we’ll figure things out.”
Jenny is hesitant in her reaction, but eventually nods, understandably. She gets to her feet and straightens her dress at the hips, clearing her throat a bit before she looks at Evan.
”I think people are wrong about you.”
Evan raises an eyebrow, showing his inability to decode the vague and cryptic statement, but Jenny continues as she moves over to him, delicately guiding one hand across his shoulder.
“They make you out to be this horrific, evil, shadowy figure with these selfish intentions-- but you’re just misunderstood, right? Hm, it sounds like something we could spin... Change it up and turn it into the opening of a montage, or some type of inspirational piece, yeah?”
Evan laughs a little and nods, though it’s unclear whether the nod is in recognition of Jenny’s words, or just a vague nod, caught up in the specifics of the conversation. As if catching himself, he answers her a few seconds later.
”You have all the answers, eh?”
”Haha, I try to.”
”...So tell me something...”
”Shoot.”
”What are you going to do if I lose to Havok?”
”I guess I didn’t give it a huge amount of thought.” She glances up at Evan, meeting his eyes with a small smirk. ”Never considered it a huge probability.”
”It could happen, y’know.”
”Hmmm... And what are the odds?”
Jenny’s voice has grown considerably softer, and though this typically provokes an abrupt dismissal or escape from our Overdrive Champion, Evan relaxes, coinciding with the same time that color begins to fade into our scene, dripping in like free-running water, splashing the dullest and most faded of areas on our screen with life.
”That’s a good question. Maybe pretty high.”
”Bull.”
Evan laughs, not bothering to question the specifics of the remark, knowing Jenny will explain soon enough, which she does.
”You can’t tell me that there’s a bone in your body that thinks you’re leaving Brasilia with a loss to Nathaniel Havok! I mean, Ev...” Jenny shakes her head. ”You have to be better than this.”
”I’m flattered. I am. You never answered my question, though.”
”Because I didn’t think you were serious...”
Evan calmly repeats himself. ”Jenny, what are you going to do if I lose to Havok?”
And for moments, the two stare into each others’ eyes, as if waiting for the final bits of color to fade into the scene. Evan angles his head, arching his eyebrow to indicate his intention of receiving an answer, and Jenny finally opens her mouth, though remains silent for a few seconds before she replies.
”I’m going to have to go over our gameplan to take on Buckson Gooch at Mayhem, and look at Havok as a potential contender for the Overdrive Cham--”
”Ahh!”
”--Sorry, the Lady.” She tries desperately to hide any traces of sarcasm, and continues despite receiving a curious leer from Evan. ”...And then we’d have to figure out how we make sure something like this never, ever happens again. But I don’t like thinking that way.”
”Neither do I. But I asked you the question, Jenny, because the odds are, if you’re out there every week, and I’m wrestling every week, and I lose it’s probably because you did something to screw it up.”
Jenny immediately frowns at the statement, but Evan just laughs loudly.
”I’m obnoxious, I know.”
Jenny shakes her head, unamused. Unimpressed. ”You’re not gonna like, become butt-buddies with Havok and throw this match or something stupid, are you?”
”BAHA! It’s like you hardly know me.”
”...I’m unsatisfied. I have no idea what that means.”
”It means that I’m trusting you by having you out there. So how about you trust me?”
As was becoming a trend throughout the evening, the twenty-year-old blonde is having difficulty finding an answer. Evan gives her a dismissive wave, as if informing her that he neither requires nor expects an answer.
”We’ll worry about Havok on Thursday.”
Jenny sighs, but it’s almost as if a sigh of relief.
”Havok isn’t taking shots with me tonight. He isn’t dancing with me across Brasilia. He--”
”Neither is your girlfriend.” Jenny’s eyes widen a bit after she says it... Evidence that she had simply blurted it out, mindlessly, prompting an amused look from Evan.
”No. She wasn’t able to take off work.”
Evan looks at Jenny, who adjusts her dress again, at the hips, and doesn’t even bother fishing for a response this time. She simply strides toward Evan, adjusting his ruffled collar as she smiles up at him.
”Well, are we almost ready then?”
”Just about. Let me grab shoes.”
She nods and Evan slides past Jenny, into the bedroom of the Brazilian suite. He pulls socks and his best pair of mock-leather dress shoes from his bag... And then we follow his gaze as it travels upward, toward the dresser, toward his iPhone.
Our scene abruptly jumps a few seconds into the future with Evan, fully dressed, snatching the phone from the top of the dresser.
Again, our scene abruptly jumps a few seconds into the future, with Evan listening to his voicemails on speaker. The voice obviously belongs to Michelle Weaver.
”Hey, baby, it’s me... It’s Monday night, I guess around ten o’clock or so? You just-- you know, you promised that you’d call or text or something and let me know you got to the airport safely. I know you hate public flying and everything and I... Just worry, I guess. It’s whatever; I know you’re busy, so just send me a text when you can, or something... I love you.” Click.
Deleted.
Evan uses his thumb to scroll through messages over the screen, filtering through voicemails from Michelle.
”Hey, baby. Me again. I got your text... Glad you got to Brasilia safely. You just haven’t said much lately and I-- you know, like I said, I worry, and if it’s too much, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just stressed with everything going on at work, and with everything going on with you... I don’t like the idea of somebody hurting you like that-- like the way they did.
“Anyway, I wanted to wish you luck against Nathaniel Havok this week. I know you’ve talked about how this guy is like, supposed to be legit, so I hope you guys knock ‘em dead... But I expect you to call me back tonight, mister. No matter what the time difference is.
“I love you. Bye.”
Deleted.
Evan cycles through the messages and sighs, seeing that there is only one message from Michelle left. Our scene cuts forward, to Evan listening to the voicemail.
”I’m sorry for whatever I did or said that made you feel that you can’t talk to me, Evan... I’m-- I’m honestly sorry if I can’t give you whatever that... Freaking belt is giving you, or what Jenny gives you. Honestly. Whatever. I’m... Sorry. Bye.”
Evan doesn’t delete the message like the others, but he groans as he drops the phone on the top of the dresser and takes a few steps backward, sitting down on the bed. For a few moments, Evan looks back at himself in the mirror that sits behind the dresser... He turns, looking past the luggage and the misplaced laundry in the hotel suite-- a cringe, and a wave of guilt washing over him as he sees his clothes lying, mixed and interlaced with Jenny’s across the floor.
His eyes then raise toward Jenny’s suitcase, which serves as the current home of the Overdrive Championship, affectionately referred to as Lady Overdrive. Evan looks at her, longingly, though he frowns a bit as Lady Overdrive gazes back at him in a look that only the silent Evan Envi could describe to us.
He turns his attention toward his phone and pushes himself up, making a grab for it-- but his hand is stopped. He glances up to see Jenny Knite holding his hand, smirking up at him.
”All ready?”
”Yeah. I just need to make a ph...” Evan trails off and clears his throat, shaking his head. ”Actually, yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”
Jenny glances toward the phone and then at Evan, arching a brow.
”If you need to do something, do it. The longer you put it off--”
”We’re good. Let’s head out.”
Jenny looks at Evan inquisitively for a second but then smiles and pulls him out into the hallway.
”Alright. Let’s see Brasil.”
And with that, the two fade from the view of the camera from the hotel suite’s bedroom, and we fade away before making an attempt to follow them.
We fade into a distorted, yet colorful scene where Jenny and Evan travel, by means of rental car, to a nightclub entitled Emporio 37. Our cameras transition to the nightclub’s interior, where we witness the drinking, the dancing, and in some cases, the prelude to the human being’s mating ritual, all in one package... All in one blur.
It is some time before our cameras capture Evan Envi, who is obviously far past his first shot, lazily throwing an arm around the shoulders of Jenny Knite for support as he listens to a DJ in Emporio 37 announce his arrival... Demanding that the screaming, drunk, high, tripping masses praise their guest by means of dance. By screaming.
We’re joining... Sometimes we’re traveling, by foot, by car-- even by boat-- but the distorted music is always playing throughout the bakground, soft, and distant.
”Nathaniel, you’re a guy that seems to know what he wants.
“You just don’t know how to get it, do ya?
“But... Me? I am that guy. I am that Megastar that you aspire to be. I am the bar.
“I have everything I want, and I’ve fought for it. I’m at a point where you can’t take anything away from me, Nate. Perhaps a... A mere tally in the win-loss books, but even that seems unlikely.
“I’m on top of the world, bro. I’m on top... And it feels good...”
By now, we’ve switched nightclubs, and we’re hustling through the crowded floors of the neon-colored, strobing Nuth in Barra de Tijuca. Girls of Latin American, and even North American-origin swoon at the sight of a semi-celebrity, though the intoxicated Evan is guided to a table by Jenny and a specially-appointed member of security.
”I know you remember what that tastes like... Having girls that you don’t even want on your arm, buying you drinks, hanging off of your every word. I mean, for a little over a month, you were the APW World Heavyweight Champion. Man, you WERE the world!
“But you slipped a bit, then you lost a step or two, and then your career was ended at the hands of President Jeff at Rasslemania. A retired, washed-up, HAS-BEEN that wrestles one night a year served you, and ended your career in front of millions of viewers. Even Stefan Raab didn’t let that happen to him. But you?
“You’re just not a man that can get what he wants. You’re trapped, forever, in an abyss that nips at you... And rips at you... And then eventually, it just overwhelms you. You’re trapped in a cycle in this industry, Nate-Dog.
“And if recent history is any indication, you’re incapable of saving yourself.”
Champagne bottles are popped at a bar as Evan Envi leads the toasts, happily yelling back into his legions of Brazilian fans. Evan Envi takes a large gulp of the champagne to a cheer from his small audience, prompting all of them to follow suit.
In another scene, colors dance throughout yet another nightclub, and our camera-men have made less of a point to keep track. They simply follow as the giddy, yet silent Evan moves through the club with the glossy-eyed Jenny Knite taking the lead, taking him by the forearm.
”You’re incapable of obtaining this life.
“You wrestled beneath a mask on Meltdown for months and your ONLY goal was to get the North American Championship, and no matter what-- you never failed to fail. You tried countless times to get shots at people like Aubrey J. Parker and Logan Alexander, and every single time, you were trumped. Whether it was Christian Kane, or Logan, or even Young Mannie, you couldn’t get the job done, Nate.
“You couldn’t get what you wanted.
“And sometimes I find myself asking ‘why’? I ask myself what went wrong for you-- because you all have the tools to be one of the greats. You should be a given for the Hall of Fame, but for some reason, I find myself doubting that you’d make it onto that list, because you don’t have the ability to reach out and grab what you want anymore. Where’s your push? Where’s your drive?
“What happened to the hunger that was lying behind the man in wait on Meltdown? You salivated at the thought of that North American Championship, and then you decided to give up, yet you think that you can find success against the King of Overdrive. Haha... Son-son, I INVENTED the North American Championship.
“Level up.”
Our cameras focus on Lady Overdrive, sitting on her literal pedestal, riding in the back-seat of the car.
”She’s what I want. She’s what I’ve always wanted, ever since I came here... And I got her. First try!
“People told me I didn’t deserve her. People told me that I hadn’t even earned the right to be graced by her presence, y’know? Haha-- but those are the same people that are walking around with their thumbs up their asses, lucky to be even considered for title shots and main events these days. Those are the same people that aren’t even here anymore.
“And you know as well as I do that it isn’t all about that. It isn’t about the gold, or the main events. It’s about real wrestling. It’s about doing what people like you and I were born to do-- tear down the house, and steal the whole damn show. Am I right?
“I know you can go. I know that you’re one of the best that APW has ever seen, but I also know that you’ve PROUDLY displayed nearly every single flaw that you have in the five months that you were dicking around on Monday nights, trying, and failing to chase glory.
“Nate, I want to beat you this week. And despite your best efforts, that’s exactly what’s going to happen-- because... Well... We’ve been through this.”
We fade between images of the Lady, and the country-like landscape of the back-roads of Brasilia. Evan Envi lies with his head against the partially-open window of the car, staring up into the bright night sky behind red eyes, and a broad grin.
”You could be the best, but you can’t be, because I... Still... Exist.
“You could have everything you want, but you can’t-- because some of those things you want, like the spotlight, and the fame-- they’re unattainable, because they’re the things that I want.
“I want this life. I want it forever. I want to be able to look out into the slums of the muckiest South American countries, or look into the beautiful natural gardens of Brasilia and be able to smile REGARDLESS because I know I’m on top of the world.”
Finally, we blink away from the Brazilian landscape, and we cut to the smirking face of Evan Envi, in the present, as he smiles ahead into the camera.
”Ever heard of Don Bosco?”
Evan sighs and looks away, shaking his head.
”Probably not.
“He was an Italian saint, and in the late nineteenth century, he prophesied the birth of Brasilia. His prophecy was, between parallels 15 and 20, around a lake which shall be formed; A great civilization will thrive, and that will be the Promised Land.
“The Promised Land...”
Evan smiles into the camera for a moment before he utters a single dry chuckle and turns, looking away once more. Finally, he gives the camera a mockingly bashful smile.
”It’s only fitting that the King has come home, Nate.
“I know you want to beat me, and I wish you the best of luck. You have the tools, and you might even have the intelligence to beat me-- but I’m going to make sure, that the day that you reach out and finally find the strength to grab what you want, the date doesn’t read May 2nd, 2013. You won’t thrive at my expense. I won’t allow it.
“...But I expect the audience to leave the arena in tears at the pure beauty put on display before them. You live for entertainment, Nate. So entertain. Show us how far you can really go-- and maybe you can save yourself from whatever it is that you’re caught up in... Hm?
“Good luck, Nate.
I mean that.”
Dark.
K.O.D.
