time.

[chaos lite]

you are young, and life is long
and there is time to kill today...

unspecified.unspecified

”When I think about this Sunday... I get angry.

I shouldn’t be in this position. I shouldn’t have to win my title back from you, Kaylyn. I shouldn’t have ever lost it in the first place... I messed up, and you took advantage. You did exactly what I would have done, so if I never said this in the past, please, accept my congratulations.

...but that doesn’t change the fact that your entire reign is nothing more than- than injustice. You don’t even appreciate the Suicidal Championship.

You never wanted it. You feared it. You never wanted that type of responsibility, or that kind of weight on your shoulders, and it’s because you know you could never, ever be what I’ve become. You could never do for Kaylyn James Evans what Aubrey J. Parker did for Kaylyn James Evans. You are the scantily-clad sideshow attraction following a five star cinematic extravaganza, bitch.

I am class. I am integrity. I am everything that the Suicidal Championship needed, and you took it and you might as well spit all over it. It’s just not fair. I make one tiny, stupid mistake in a match that shouldn’t have even happened, and then YOU... what the hell have you done? Attack me from behind? Shout threats at Christian and Logan? You haven’t picked up one win, and the only reason that the crowd chants your name is because I’M out there, and as long as I’m breathing, then they allow you to exist, bouncing down to the ring like some kind of goddamned prostitute under the fucking delusion that she could somehow, in some grim alternative to this universe, be anything... like... ME.

And they know you’re going to fail. So why bother hating you? Why hate something lesser than yourself?

It doesn’t mean that I think you’re a bad wrestler, Kay. I think the opposite... I think you’re a lot better than you give yourself credit for. Problem is, you’re never going to understand that and you might never tap into that potential, because you know you can never truly reach the top while I’m here. You can’t reach it while people like Logan or Christian are here, because you don’t have it in you.

Logan has proved it several times. I don’t think I need to prove anything else to you, but if it comes down to that, lord knows that I can do it even with a fractured rib.

No... no, instead, Christian Kane is the person that you need to prove yourself to.

He’s the person that you’ve been holding back for six months, not me.

He’s the person that you’ve been hurting, and manipulating, not me.

...but I’m the person you’ve stolen from. Except, as much as I want the Suicidal Championship, I know that I’m no condition to defend it. I know that there’s somebody out there that can carry the title in a way that will ensure its legacy isn’t run into the dirt. I know that Christian Kane can be this guy.

He’s an example of what happens when you keep true talent under-wraps for too long. Christian Kane should already be kicking Terry Marvin’s fucking head off and taking the Undisputed Title, but instead, he’s forgotten about, tossed aside, kicked around, and demoralized, and it’s because he GAVE UP all of his momentum when he first came to this place so he could help you succeed. And the saddest part about it? He did. He did help you, and it was at the expense of his own career.

So now he’s finding himself starting from scratch, trying to make a name for himself in Action Packed Wrestling, when everybody should have seen what was standing before him in the first place. Logan saw it, and I saw it. You saw it too, Kaylyn, and you jumped at the chance to partner up with him, didn’t you? It was obvious that Christian Kane was able to take you all the way to the top, and you knew how to explot his talents.

The difference between you and Christian is that Christian Kane isn’t just untapped potential- he’s the real thing. The people wanted to see him get motivated.

So I made sure that Schmidt put gold in front of his face. And it might be Reggie’s last act before Stefan Raab- who humiliated you in record time in your own type of match- decimates him, but it was a good decision. Now Christian can do what I can’t. He can still save that Suicidal Championship, damnit, there’s still time.

And then what will you do? Maybe you’ll wallow in self-pity for a while and you’ll do what everyone is expecting you to do; go back to Jason Kash, beg him to take you in, and keep you from falling into obscurity.

Or maybe you’ll decide that you don’t like this at all. You’ll get kicked one too many times. You’ll get one too many bruises on your pretty face, and you’ll hang up your boots like all the cool kids, and you’ll leave.

...or maybe you’ll figure out a way to stop hiding behind the guise of some careless, cold-hearted bitch. Maybe you’ll break down, and you’ll cry, and you’ll realize that you need to push yourself to a level you never thought possible if you want to even think about keeping up with people like me and Christian Kane out there. You need to be better. You need to be big.

Really big.

Big.

Can you be though?

You’ve had all the opportunities in the world, sunshine. You could argue that Christian has had just as many, but Christian has something now that you just can’t seem to hold onto... and that’s anger. That’s something valuable here in APW.

You have no humility, Kaylyn, and it makes you a weaker person. It makes the thought of hurting you almost TOO appealing. And you have a pissed off Canadian out there that’s drooling over the thought of tearing you to pieces.

I’m just going to watch. I’m going to let it happen. I’m going to let Christian Kane do something big at Mayhem. Maybe noowwww you wish you’d shared the spotlight, Kay.

Maybe now it’s too late. You’ve traded allies for enemies, and you could have stopped this, and you could still try to spare yourself the beating. You could relinquish the Suicidal Championship, and just put it down on the ground when the ref starts the match at Mayhem, and you can back out of the ring. You can tell the referee that you quit, and then you can start fresh.

You can just end it all, before we do it for you. It’s not a threat, though... no, don’t mistake it for a threat... but I’m pleading with you. I’m pleading for you, babydoll, end this- you don’t want what’s coming your way on Sunday night. You’re just not ready.

You’re good, but you’re not great, and you don’t want to be great. And I’m going to help take away the only thing that defines you, and make you define yourself from now on. No longer will AJP and KJE will be uttered in the same sentence, because after Mayhem, I’m done with you. We’ll see how you survive. We’ll see how much the name ‘Kaylyn James Evans’ is really worth.

This is happening because you’re a thief.

This is happening because you’re a manipulator. Ask Christian.

And baby, this is happening because I’m angry.

...and when has that ever been good news for you?”

may.17.thirteenmorning

I’m Aubrey. Don’t talk to me. Listen to me.

I lose time. It happens frequently. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but like, what the fuck, right? How much harm can come out of it?

I lose time. All the time.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table in my LA, California home and I guess I’d poured myself cereal. You see, that’s weird, because I’m pretty sure I don’t even eat cereal. Like, seriously. What am I, middle-class?

So I stopped eating the corn puffs or whatever the hell, and I got up made my way to the mirror. I was still clad in an oversized black t-shirt advertising Code Red Wrestling talent, Buck Dempsey- evidently one of Talon’s shirts. I moved my hands past the torn threads at the bottom of the t-shirt, lifting it up, past the violet-colored boy shorts, and past my ribcage... there.

The battle scars.

A fractured rib. Like, what a fucking joke. What a perfect fucking time. A fractured rib. And they were making me compete.

Spiteful fucks. They hate me. They don’t appreciate me.

No, fuck you, Aubrey, that’s stupid. This is a title match.

No... fuck them. You have a Tag Team Championship match on Monday, and that’s what you’ve been fighting for since Rasslemania, and now you have it. And now they’re KILLING you. They’re FUCKING killing you. And they know exactly what they’re doing.

I bet Bailey put them up to this.

No. They hate him too. Because he’s a cum-sucking piece of shit.

No, it was probably that freak that Kaylyn runs around with, whoever he is. I never saw his face. I just saw him from a distance on Asylum... I heard about him... maybe I’m paranoid, but in a business like this, where anybody could be your enemy, doesn’t it pay to be a little cautious?

”Just let me replace the bandages, Aubs.”

”How long have we been up here?”

”What?”

I lost time. I was lying on my bed, wincing as Cassandra pulled the bandages from my side. I couldn’t control it... I screamed in pain, my eyes immediately swelling with tears. I could still feel the gash from where I’d made contact with the announce table, and I could feel the excruciating burn that accompanied its introduction to oxygen.

”I’m sorry!”

”God... fuck! Does it look any better?”

”It looked better with the bandage on...”

”I’m serious!”

”The bruises aren’t as bad. But you need to keep this bandaged up. We don’t want you to have a broken rib and an infection.”

I didn’t argue with her. And don’t think I hadn’t thought about it... I was just in far too much pain.

”Why are they making you do this?”

”What?”

”Wrestle in the Suicidal Triple Threat. It’s just... I guess the name of the match is fitting.”

”Action Packed Wrestling clearly has too many chiefs and not enough Indians. Everybody has their ego, and everybody thinks they know which company this direction should be pulled in. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck who’s in charge of Action Packed Wrestling, but so far, nobody has known how to treat me. This is just an example. I should be in the Undisputed Title picture, but instead, I was injured by a barbarian two weeks ago and now I’m being thrown into a Suicidal Title match against that simple bitch Kaylyn.”

”Then why don’t you just... bail? Just don’t show up.”

”I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

The thought of it left a sour taste in my mouth.

”Besides, that’s not the kind of person I am. I started this, and I’m going to be out there on Sunday to make sure it’s finished.”

”Without wrestling?”

”Without jeopardizing myself.”

I knew Cassandra well enough by now to know that the look she was giving me wasn’t meant to be condescending, but she looked disappointed. Understand how this was conflicting for me. A moment ago, she suggested that I bail and no-show for my own Suicidal Championship rematch, and now, she’s looking at me like I’m the scum of the earth for saying I didn’t want to risk my career out there.

”What’s that look for?”

”I just don’t see why Christian should get a shortcut.”

Now I was a little annoyed. Perhaps beyond “a little.”

”What’s that mean, Cass?”

”It means, as long as you go out there, there’s virtually no way that Kaylyn’s going to walk out of Rio de Janeiro with the title. You want to hold Christian’s hand on the way to his first title reign? After everything he’s complained about?”

”That’s not what’s-”

”It seems like that’s what’s happening.”

”Well, it’s not! Christian is capable of winning the Suicidal Championship on his own, and if I felt that it was in my best interest to take that championship, I’d be able to do it as well. I’d be able to battle with two high-level Megastars in a Suicidal Triple Threat and reclaim my gold, broken rib and all. And if I see some sort of sign from the heavens that tells me to take my baby back at Mayhem, then I’ll do that.

But until then, I’ll just watch while Kaylyn eats the Super Sexy Kick for the first time, and she loses, and she’s left completely bare, and exposed in that ring for what she is... a totally blank canvas that those people don’t KNOW how to feel for. They won’t know what to feel when she’s not their Suicidal Champion, and when there’s no more AJP to oppose her. She’ll just be Kaylyn.

...and even if I was out there to make sure she didn’t walk away with the title, what does it matter? She based her entire career on making sure I was stripped of absolutely everything that I worked for.

Why not her?”


afternoon

I’m sure Cassandra said something really profound after this, and if I know myself, I know it probably led to some sort of back and forth bickering, but unfortunately I don’t know what happened after that. I lost some time.

I was in the backyard. I was sweating, I was on my knees, and breathing was becoming excruciating.

I looked over my hands. I looked at those fingers that used to be smooth, flawless, and delicate. There were small, fine cuts on the backs of my hands... pink flesh from healed wounds, small, but visible running along my forearms. Up to my elbows.

The pain wasn’t so excruciating by that point. I thought of the gash I had seen on my torso earlier and I knew that it would heal just like all of the others, and soon it would just be a story like all of the others.

Before, Jason Kash had told me that he wore his scars like trophies. I didn’t understand it then, and I never wish to experience it to his extent, but I think I understand it now. I look at these scars... and I feel a little bit stronger. I feel that my story is a little bit more defined. I feel that-

”Come inside. We have to finish packing.”

I don’t know how long Cassandra had been out there on her knees, sitting there right next to me, but I was comforted by it.


evening

”Do you hate Kaylyn?”

Well, that wasn’t completely unexpected.

”No.”

I was sitting on top of Talon’s suitcase as I looked up at Cassandra. I was pleased to find that even with the lost time, I was able to remember that Talon had teased me about being the only one of the three of us to not finish packing before he made a run to the store... and by “run to the store”, I mean, his excuse to drive his new car.

”Then what’s really making you go through with this? Do you honestly care that much about making sure Christian Kane gets to experience the spotlight?”

”I do. Is that not allowed?”

Cassandra looked at me for a few seconds with a face that told me she was trying to decide how to interpret me. Whatev.

”You know you can talk to me about anything that you want to, right?”

”I thought that’s what Norman was for.”

That was spiteful. I think she was a little hurt by it, but she tried to hide it. It’s hard to hide those emotions after twenty years though, isn’t it?

”And you can talk to Talon too. I just want you to talk to somebody when-”

”You think I have something to hide?”

”I think you have a lot going on right now.”

”I think you give really vague answers to really simple questions.”

Cassandra sighed and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles.

”You’re a different person every time we talk. I don’t know what I’m going to get when I open your bedroom door in the mornings sometimes. I don’t know if I’m getting my best friend, or if I’m getting the stuck-up princess, or if I’m getting... this AJP persona.”

”Persona?”

I smiled and mulled it over for a little, giggling.

”Persona. That’s an interesting take on it.”

”And you don’t care who you hurt, do you?”

”Actually, Cass, I’m going to start giving vague answers to your simple questions. Sometimes, people like to hurt people. Sometimes people just want to know what it feels like to hurt people. I thought we covered this already, weeks ago.”

”I thought maybe you realized you sounded crazy.”

Crazy.

I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t remember what I said to Cassandra after that...

Crazy?

...but I remember that I wasn’t happy.

Crazy.

I was angry.

Crazy.

And I wasn’t going to take it out on my best friend. I wouldn’t take it out on Talon. I wouldn’t take it out on myself.

Crazy.

I would hold onto that anger. For just one more night.

While there was time.

fin.