Post by bryanpayne on Jul 2, 2010 16:14:24 GMT -4
Beep… beep… beep…
The slow steady beeping of the heart monitor was Bryan’s only companion.
He sat in the ICU room where his brother remained unconscious almost twenty-four hours after the attack on him by Level One. The ‘example’ that One had made out of his little brother… the same kid who had once followed him around begging to please play catch just a few more minutes. The same kid that he’d done things he’d rather not remember to make sure he got what he needed growing up. Bryan closed his eyes for a moment, his hands rubbing either side of his nose as he suppressed a sigh that threatened to well up and likely become something altogether more…
His chair was seated directly next to the bed, a second pulled up for his feet, and a blue sports jacket was slung over his middle acting like a blanket, while his right hand held his brother’s as tightly as he dared. He hadn’t left Tim’s side since he’d been brought in here. He wasn’t sure what good it would do, but he knew it was something he just had to do, he owed that to his little brother. There’d been times when he’d ignored Tim, pushed him aside like he had his mother and some of his friends in the last six months. Things had just…. Spiraled on him. Where once he’d resolved to keep Tim out of this business by any means necessary he’d finally just caved and gotten him a trainer because sitting on the kid until he smartened up was just took too much time. Bryan knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew exactly who to blame for his brother laying there like this, but the fact of the matter was it didn’t have to be Level One who’d done this… it could have happened at anytime from enemies that Tim would make along the way.
His mother had been an absolute wreck. And rightly so. She’d come to except, reluctantly, that Bryan got his head bashed in on a routine basis, hell to be honest he really didn’t know what he’d do otherwise short of returning to the streets that he’d crawled out of to start with… and he had no interest in being muscle for some jumped up con man again. But Tim… the kid had had breaks he never got; precisely because Bryan was doing those things. He’d kept the kid out of jail, and except for the incident with a Yakuza underboss which was the whole reason he’d moved his family to the States.. out of trouble. Then again, that was kind of like saying, ‘well except for that pesky theory of relativity, space travel would be peachy keen!’
Bryan had to face the facts that he really had a lot over the years. He’d grown up a little over the last couple years, the guy who had broken bones for a few hundred bucks was never really that far from the surface however much polish he applied, but the willingness for that kind of… mindless violence just wasn’t there anymore. There was a time that he’d wrestled to prove that that change had happened… that he could do something other than that, to provide for his family… to make John proud of him, to prove to himself that he had at least changed in that he cared enough now to want to do the right thing. And that was certainly true enough. Now though? Now what was he wrestling for? Himself? Trying to build a legacy… fulfill the dreams of a dead man; dreams he had for a kid who no longer really existed? And if he was wrestling for himself now, how big of a price was he willing to let his family and friends pay to keep wrestling… before it was just too high?
This wasn’t the first time his friends or family had been targeted in an attempt to “get to” Bryan. And somewhere he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Generally he had a hands off attitude towards it; then again when the friends in question are Georgie and AC… well, they can more than take care of themselves right? Once upon a time John had been a target too, but that was a mistake on their part, underestimating the man because he’d been a ‘manager’ at the time, forgetting that once upon a time John “The Hammer” Henry had been on of the most feared in ring competitors in the South East United States. People had even used his mother and Tim in an attempt to get to him before, not in wrestling, but certainly when he’d worked for that same underboss that had gotten Tim in trouble. Bryan reached down underneath the jacket rubbing his right hip where the tattoo suddenly seemed to itch… the proof of what he’d been forever sealed in his very flesh.
The bottom line was that eventually people had learned not to screw around with Bryan like that. Because underneath the smiles and the jokes, and the attempt to be a good person… was one scary son of a bitch who got off on breaking folks in half. And every soft beep of that heart monitor echoed straight down into the pit of Bryan Payne’s stomach poking, prodding that dark corner of his soul and the Beast stirred. It pushed against the walls he’d erected against it, rebelled against the controlled ice cold image he presented his opponents, it raged against the prison he found itself in. And the barriers were weakening.
Beep…. Beep…. Beep.
The door clicked open as the handle was turned, and Bryan jerked his head up drawing a sharp breath. He stretched, realizing at some point he must have drifted off and looked over towards the door where a tall white man in the predictable coat breezed into the room to check on Tim. He watched the doctor for a few moments as he pulled his feet out of the second chair and shifted the one he was sitting in to the side to allow the doc access to all the various equipment and monitors, half of which Bryan didn’t even pretend to know what it was for, but figured it had a least a passing importance. He stifled a yawn, lowering his face with his elbows propped on his denim covered knees and rubbed his sleep deprived face.
“How is he doc?” Bryan said, surprised at how his voice sounded. Dry, brittle, though most of that was that he was dry, parched even, how long had he been asleep? It was difficult to say there weren’t any clocks and he hadn’t exactly taken time to gather up his watch and much of anything before he charged to the hospital at mach three to find out what had happened.
The doctor arched an eyebrow and looked up from the metal covered chart he’d been making notes on and tried to force a smile. It was a smile that was accustomed to faking it and not something that Bryan particularly appreciated now. He was sure in some manual somewhere they referred to that smile as “bed side manner” But right now he had to resist the urge not to send a balled fist to shatter that too white perfect tooth smile.
“We’ll know more when he wakes up Mr. Payne. He’s got a concussion from the head trauma, fractures… and you can see the bruising. But we won’t know if he’s had any brain damage until after he’s woken up.”
Bryan did sigh then. Brain damage? Really? What did this doctor mean, was Tim going to be a vegetable?
“What are you trying to say here?”
The doctor gave a little bit of a sigh and walked around the bed to where Bryan was sitting. He turned his face away from the doctor so he didn’t see how the Beast raged inside him then. That cold touch, the faint twitch of the fingers and around the eye that said that ‘fake smile’ face was about to look at him with false sympathy and lie to him. Bryan shoved it down with obvious effort, it screamed roared and clawed at him from the inside in protest.
The doctor seemed to sense something of it, because the hand was removed a little too hastily as Bryan tensed. “Uh. Well, what I’m saying is Mr. Payne is that he’s stable and he’s been badly injured. The trauma to his head is severe and until the swelling in the brain goes down… it’s almost impossible to predict the outcome. He’s in good hands here Mr. Payne… you’re not helping him by not sleeping yourself.. he’ll need you when he wakes up.”
Bryan bit back a retort to mind his own business, but then… he supposed if a doctor couldn’t tell you to get some sleep who the hell could right? So he nodded instead, looking up at the doctor and forcing a small fake smile of his own.
“Sure. Thanks doc, you’ve been great.”
The doctor nodded and flipped the chart closed, returning it to the holder at the foot of the bed before moving back towards the now open door. “Someone will be coming in a little while to check on him and we’ll call you the moment there’s any change.”
Bryan nodded a little bit on acknowledgement of the doctor’s comment and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs as he rubbed his face with both hands, trying to banish the sleep from his brain and collect his thoughts. Level One had crossed a line here, one that couldn’t be come back from. Attacking him was one thing… after all Bryan put himself in this kind of danger, but his little brother? The rest of his family? He even threatened his friends… what was he supposed to do with all of that knowledge but focus everything now, not just on beating Level One, but ending his career for good? Perhaps that was the only solution, however distasteful he found it.
Tim, Dr. Payne… Christ but that was a horrible ring name. How had he come up with it? But it wasn’t all that surprising. This was the same kid who had followed Bryan’s whole career religiously, always his biggest fan, amazingly resilient even while Bryan tried to force him away from the business. The kid was too small, too idealistic, and entirely too full of himself. A slow steady smirk formed on Bryan’s face as he considered that assessment, the same things had been said of him when he’d first started out. But John Henry had beaten and molded him added the muscle, enhanced his technical ability turned him into a wrestler who only need a few seconds and a single hold to end a match. Now, again, he was facing a man who didn’t care about the honor of anything… or making himself better or any of the virtues that Bryan held so near and dear. He was fighting a man who would do anything for the quick and easy way to win… and so Bryan was going to have to crawl down in the gutter with him.
His head came up again as the door clicked once more, and Bryan had to force his fist to unclench as he wrenched his mind away from Level One. There, standing in the doorway was none other than AC Thunder. The two men stared at each other for a moment, not saying much of anything as AC moved into the room proper and looked down at Tim, still unconscious, and pointedly avoided making eye contact with Bryan. The two men hadn’t spoken much in the last year. Not since the fallout after Cancun Clash, but then a lot of that had to do with Bryan’s impromptu retirement and then his return in APW… all while AC fought it out in SCW and now was helping to promote another wrestling promotion of his own.
Ultimately it was Bryan who broke the silence, clearing his throat softly first as he stood up and moved to stand beside AC.
“Thanks for coming AC.” The other man turned his head a bit and looked at Bryan, giving him a little bit of a nod.
“Sure. No problem. How is he?”
“He’ll live,” Bryan said, trying to force a smile but failing miserably, instead he just shook his head a bit before continuing, “He’s got swelling in his brain, they’re going to have to drill in and drain the blood to try to relieve the pressure or he’s looking at possible brain damage. Mom is flying in from San Diego as we speak, I’m really not looking forward to that, she’s going to flip.”
“Has he been awake since?”
“No. They brought him in out and they put him in what they called a ‘medically induced coma’ it’s touch and go.”
“Jesus…” AC shook his head and nodded towards the door. “You look like you could use a coffee… lets walk.”
Bryan looked to Tim, reluctant to leave the room if the truth was told, but he eventually allowed himself to be chided by AC out. The cold, stark, antiseptic walls of the hospital corridor greeting them. The florescent lights over head tended to wash everything out, color, seemingly the very life itself… it had always been the part of hospitals that Bryan hated, it made everything look like you were already dead.
The two men arrived at the coffee machine a few minutes later and began feeding coins into it. They hadn’t spoken much to this point, but it was measure of just how put out Bryan was that he was even entertaining this notion. Caffeine drinks right alongside red meat, sugar, and almost anything else people thought tasted good were things Bryan Payne tended to shun like the plague. But now, he did sip the bitter too strong brew and was grateful for it.
“So… belated congratulations on being a World Champ again,” AC quipped slightly dumping what appeared to be three pounds of sugar into his own cup.
Bryan snorted just a bit in reply, “Yeah… it’s proven an educational experience that’s for sure.”
“And now,” AC said removing his plastic coffee stirrer from between his teeth and flinging it into a nearby waste bin before leaning back against the wall, one foot up against the wall behind him to support and the other for balance out front, “you’re in a dog fight with Level One.”
“Pretty much.” Bryan said with a nod. “I figured we’d be having this conversation in reverse when we first formed Defiance Reborn you know. I’d just watched you in the Extreme Tournament fighting this guy twice… always thought you’d want a third crack at him.”
“I do.” AC said with a bit of a laugh, “But you’ve been doing well for yourself, hell you actually managed to beat the guy, I never did.”
“Bah. He’s still the third best thing to come out of Canada.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you’re the second.”
For a moment AC seemed at war with himself before he finally got up the nerve to ask. “I know I’m going to regret this but… what’s the first?”
“John Candy of course.”
“John Ca-…. I thought you were going to say Pam Anderson… knowing you.”
Bryan and AC shared a slight chuckle.
“So, did Georgie put you up to having this talk with me?”
“You’re a paranoid son of a bitch Bryan Payne.” AC smirked slightly sipping from his coffee again.
“That’s not really an answer is it?” Bryan arched an eyebrow as he moved over to the wall beside AC and leaned against it similarly.
“I guess not, but no. I was in town trying to drum up support for GLW and well… I heard through the grapevine what happened, figured you’d be here.”
“It’s good to see you AC.” Bryan nodded sipping again from his own cup.
“Bryan..” AC sighed suddenly the coffee just didn’t taste quite right and he tossed the remainder into the trash along with the straw from earlier. “you didn’t listen to me last time I gave you some serious advise. So I’m going to give you some more right now… don’t fuck around with Lester alright? Because this is what happens. I know you, I know you’re going to poke this guy and keep poking him until he loses it, that’s what you do. You have two settings… needle someone to death and psycho death monkey… I’ve seen both and I have to tell you… I don’t know that either way is going to get this done. And now I hear you had this match changed to a No Disqualification match?! Are you nuts? That was your shot, because straight wrestling I dunno that Level One can beat you… but you’ve made this anything goes and there’s nobody nastier.”
“Didn’t have a choice. It’s me Level One wants. But he’s willing to settle for family and friends if he can’t get it. So my only option is to let this little bastard try every dirty trick he’s got every card in his desk so that when I put him down he knows in his soul he doesn’t have what it takes to deal with me. That’s really the only hope I have to end this. To put him down so hard that he’s done. Besides, I don’t want to get DQed in this thing either and I’d say I have some pretty strong motivation to cause massive bodily injury to this fat freak.”
“Lester isn’t fat…”
“Please, he’s almost three hundred pounds another couple burritos and the gas in that gut would put him into orbit!”
AC sputtered out a laugh and then shook his head.
“Fair enough Bryan, just… be careful alright. You may think you know what you’re doing, but this is never going to be over until one of you is all used up. Make sure it isn’t you.”
The two men shook hands with a feeling of gave solemnity and parted company, leaving Bryan alone drinking from his coffee cup for a few more minutes before heading back towards Tim’s room. AC was probably right. This wouldn’t end until he ended Level One once and for all, and a no DQ match gave him the tools to do it…
(***************)
Tim being in the hospital had made it hard to train. There was no way around that fact part of his head was just pulled in that direction wondering how he was doing, if any of the three planned surgeries might go wrong. His mother arriving finally had made it easier, he was able to leave the hospital knowing that if anything did happen, he’d get a phone call…but he’d also had to endure his mother’s heartfelt plea that he not wrestle anymore, that he turn in his belt and walk away. How could he possibly just walk away after this? The short answer was he couldn’t.
So he worked himself constantly, to the point he couldn’t think, to the point that that little part of his brain that kept nagging at him went quiet, shut down too tired to even worry. He worked until only the focus and the rage remained, burning white hot in the center of his chest. A steady double thump like an anvil in his brain as one face, one goal circled around in his mind’s eye: destroy Level One.
How did one accomplish that goal? Men had tried it before… men far more accomplished than Bryan Payne, and all of them had ultimately failed. In this business there were few living Legends, even fewer that stood above them all and they didn’t get there by being soft targets for every hungry up and comer who wanted a piece. They got there by taking on the best… and beating them. How was ultimately less important than the fact that they had beaten them. Gone to war with the best in this business and emerged pure and stronger on the other side while the other suffered the fading of their star the little lost of luster… what MDK had once termed “AC Thunder losing his smile…”
But in the laws of logic and circumstance there was also one incontrovertible fact; no one had ever emerged on the other side on top of Bryan Payne. So far that no one included Level One who’d gotten the best of him at the Contenders Gauntlet Match it was true… but outside interference at Survive and Conquer didn’t count as a win in his favor, and since Bryan showed up in APW for real he’d defeated Level One at every turn. This attack… this cowardly attempt to get into Bryan’s head was the cry of a truly desperate man. And why shouldn’t he be desperate? For two months now Bryan had been screaming to the world that Level One was washed up, on the way down… and now he’d slipped out of TFWF with his tail between his legs… seen his plan to get a shot at Pence slip through his fingers at Mayhem, and come up short with his fingers almost brushing the title in the Triple Threat Match on Overdrive… Now? They’d face off again. Now Bryan was pissed.
He’d been this mad going into a match before… against Pence the first time in SCW… when the guy had come into HIS house all puffed up and calling him out before he’d even managed to warm up the bench in his locker room… when Stu Who had made their four month long feud deadly personal… in DEW when Robb McBride had ambushed him with his new stable and left him a bloody mess delivering the worst beating he’d ever gotten in his career. He’d been this mad at Ryan Ruckus and Ornery Hillman… Each time he’d picked himself up out of whatever mess they had drug down around him put his head down and knocked his way through whatever stood in his path to get what he wanted. When the lights were brightest Bryan Payne found an extra gear. The bigger the stakes the faster his heart beat, the more adrenaline surged though him and when you combined that with the desire to cause grievous bodily injury on one Lester Only, you came to understand why Bryan Payne had developed a reputation as a guy you just didn’t piss off. It was one thing to endure his jokes, and jibes, his little insinuations… but getting this guy mad at you brought out the killer that lurked inside….
(Four Days Later)
I zipped up my gym bag and pulled it on over my shoulder. I always found public places to work out when on the road…. And it had been a while since I’d had to do that on a regular basis. There was just something about the energy of other people that helped to keep me focused. Not only that but long ago it had started as a way to help me get used to crowds and being watched, now it was just force of habit. I probably could have a slightly more private space now… I was working again, my finances were starting to pull back into order and winning the belt had brought back a few of the endorsement offers that had originally drug me into the realm of having a bit of money. They’d abandoned me after John died, not that I blamed them, I had gone off the deep end and tried to drown the guilt in the bottom of a bottle. All I’d found there were bad memories and almost lost the rest of the people I cared about along the way. But my friends had pulled me back, my family had been there to dust me off and protect me from prying eyes while I put my life and career back together. Now I had to protect them. Now, I had to become Payne again, not the Revelation I’d been for so long, but the Wolfman.
The kid whose temper had earned me a reputation for acts of brutal violence in the ring; the kid who had enjoyed it. I know I’m different now, but I can feel that kid still deep down where I kept my guts and this was my choice: enter this match at war with myself, or give over and unleash that darker path, that part of me that I’d learned hard lessons on fearing. Because I’m older now, wiser, and the man that I am now knows that if I let that genie out of the bottle I might never be able to stuff it back inside and it could destroy me no less than the liquor and the guilt had threatened to do a few months ago. But if I could focus right, prepare right, I could hand Level One a defeat the likes of which he would never recover from.
I stepped from the locker room, the door’s hinges squeeking as they shut behind me almost obscuring the sound of heels clicking against the floor as Karen emerged at my side. A nice navy colored pinstripe pantsuit, that frankly set off her ass amazingly (hey I’m a one woman man, but I never claimed to be a saint!), drew my eyes for a moment as she was looking down at a clipboard she was taking notes on, and then she looked up meeting my gaze (dutifully raised in time) and we walked towards the entrance of the gym.
“So I moved the photo shoot until after the Extreme Tournament, and that meeting with Ray Ban…” I watched her pause just a moment, the faintest sign of a pout forming against her full lips before she nodded. I couldn’t get over how young she was. Nineteen, and I’d continually heaped more and more responsibility on her shoulders and not only had she taken it, but thrived. I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant/manager/travel companion and without her help I don’t think I’d be able to keep my life in order anymore. I imagine if I’d really wanted to I could have streamlined and changed… but I didn’t like to let my head get cluttered with the day to day details, I liked to stay focused on my training and my opponent.
“Yes?” I said prompting her gently. One of Karen’s few failings, in addition to being a horrible driver, is that she’s got a habit of starting a sentence and then not realizing that she’s stopped talking in the middle. Oh inside her head she’s finished the thought, but to the rest of us out here on planet Earth we’ve got no clue!
“Hmm? Oh, you’ll meet with them after Test for the Best, but I put my foot down on the scheduling you’ll have a full week to speed with your Mom while Tim is in post-op.”
“Good,” I said with a faint nod, watching her blonde hair jingle as she nodded back. “Any word…?”
“You know be better than that Bryan,” I flinched ever so slightly at the gentle jibe, “I’d have come gotten you the moment I had.” And it was true, like I’d said before, she really was the best.
“I know, sorry… just…”
“You’re worried,” She paused, placing a hand on my forearm to make me stop and turn me slightly, “And I know. Georgie did call though, wants an update when you get the chance wouldn’t get off the phone until I swore not to interrupt you. Why didn’t you let her fly up for this?”
“She’s… got enough on her own plate right now Karen. And so do I.”
“…right…” she nodded again and I marveled at her ability to take it all in stride.
I pushed the door open, reaching up to push my shades down to cover my eyes a split second before the tinted windows gave way to the harsh sunlight. I hated Canada… no, it’s true, I really did hate Canada. It wasn’t the people’s fault, but I couldn’t stand the weather… and any Nation responsible for Maple syrup and Tim Hortons seriously had issues!
“Well there he is, Bryan Payne.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d come so far in the last year, hell the last two but I’d never been able to completely get away from this psycho bitch. Temptation Knox. She was a reporter… a hack really, peddling sensationalist gossip for several wrestling publications online and in print. She’d been on my ass ever since I turned her down for an interview backstage in one of my very first US appearances and had seem to have a hardon, if you’ll pardon the expression, for making my life a living hell since. It had been her that had broken the story about myself and Georgie, selling pictures to Ornery Hillman that had almost created a disaster. Hounded us for months afterwards until I’d vanished from public sight all together following the death of John Henry. And now, here she was in the reincarnated flesh like Beelzebub rising from Hell itself.
My eyes flickered over the camera crew and the microphone in her hand, and I heard Karen gasp in astonishment. She’d blame herself for this… I’d have to do something about that later.
“So, Bryan Payne,” Temptation said as I watched the six foot Amazonian redhead saunter over towards me holding the microphone in her hand like a fucking stake she intended to drive through my heart. Think it’s wrong to be afraid of a reporter? Yeah you try dealing with this bitch buddy! “Training hard again I see, ready to defend another World Title while your little brother lies in his hospital bed. Do you have any comments for our audience as to why you care so little about your families welfare?”
“I care abo-“
“- Or perhaps,” she said cutting me off before I’d barely gotten two words out, “you’d like to comment on the rumors of a break up between you and Miss Nickles?”
“What breakup!?” That was Karen stepping up beside me with a rather indignant look on her features.
“Oh so you’re still keeping secrets from those closest to you Bryan? Or is she the reason you broke up to begin with?”
“Now just a damn minute here,” I began taking a step forward with my finger raised.
“Oh I think we have the minute of footage we need Bryan, thanks.” Temptation made a slashing motion with her hand and I watched the camera guy pull it down off it shoulder and lumber off towards the parking lot. “Always a sucker huh Payne?” She smirked and walked right up to me, pushing the microphone into the center of my chest her lips curling back into a half snarl. “By the time I’m done with this you’re going to wish like hell you’d never heard of Temptation Knox..”
“Too late.” I said. I know I shouldn’t have. Hell this chick was already mad enough at me and egging her on wouldn’t do any good, but seeing the change of her features and the giggle off to my left where Karen slapped a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to contain it… was well worth it. “And a word of advise Miss Knox…. Tic Tac.”
“You bastard. I’m going to ruin you, just you wait. By the time I’m done with you buster the whole world is going to know what a piece of crap you really are, I’m going to hound you right out of this industry… I can see it now.. a piece on your brother as one of the little people, the human wreckage sacrificed to the glory of Bryan Payne! Your tearful mother left alone to care for him while you are out hogging the spotlight with your little tart girlfriend.” Temptation sneered again. “The piece on the downfall of Bryan Payne after Level One kicks your ass all over Canada… And when it’s over Bryan, when I’ve driven your family your friends, and broke you and little Georgie up… and you’re sitting there all alone… you’ll see ME Bryan, with the NEXT big thing while you watch your career go straight down the toi-“
I heard it before I saw it, the fist flying from my life connecting with Temptation’s jaw. I blinked several times, the blur almost being too fast for my eyes to follow. But the busty redhead falling backwards, her impeccably manicured hands flailing for purchase in thin air, the full lip busted open the faint splatter of blood on her alabaster cheek, and the sound of her squawk as her butt crashed to the asphalt is a memory that is going to bring a smile to my face forty years from now.
“OH GOD!” I jerked my head to the side as Karen danced around shaking her hand in the air and flexing her fingers, “that hurt so SO bad.. oh god!”
“Karen!” I said, holding back a laugh as I looked back to the fallen Temptation who was looking up, if anything with even more hate in her eyes that before! For the briefest of moments I wondered what kind of she-goat gave birth to this horror of a human being, but the thought was interrupted.
“You little bitch.. I’m gonna-“ Temptation shuffled backwards with a yelp as Karen charged forward stopped only as I looped an arm around her waist and literally picked her up into the air, but even that couldn’t stop her legs from flailing around a the reporter and sending her high heels flying in all directions as I drug her away literally kicking and screaming. I’d thought that was just a metaphor! Welcome to my fucking life America.
“I’m going to ruin you Payne!” Came the shrill cry of impotent rage as her camera crew surrounded Temptation pulling her to her feet, “do you hear me! I’m going to ruin you!”
“Karen Foster, you’ve just punched out an internationally known reporter,” I said, still laughing as I got her back inside the gym, her face puffy from the anger and the fighting flush, “what are you going to do now?”
Karen looked at me for a moment, and continued to hold her hand like it might be broken and I tenderly reached over taking it and brushed my fingers gently over the back of it, feeling for swelling. I looked around for a minute and then whistled sharply between my teeth as the first guy who worked there.
“Hey, get me some ice for her hand will ya? And… call the police, there’s a disturbance in the parking lot.”
The kid looked shocked for a moment as he looked outside to see Temptation shouting obscenities non-stop at her camera crew and then I watched him blink in astonishment and dash off in the direction of the ice machine. I looked back at Karen who had her bottom lip stuck out in a pretty little pout and as I looked back at her hand I heard the slap of her foot stomping against the floor as we both regarded the jagged remains of a French tip.
“I broke a nail….”
Welcome to my life America.
(************)
(12 Hours before Test for the Best.)
“This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that everything is going to be alright,” I said softly from my perch on the backstage bench of the arena. “This is the part that I’m supposed to tell you that I’m going to go out there and win because I’m the good guy and he’s the bad guy and that’s the way the story is supposed to end.” My eyes drifted upwards, my elbows resting heavily against my knees as the curls at the front of my hairline drifted down partly obscuring my eyes. “This is the part where I’m supposed to be the hero.”
I let out a slow steadying breath, feeling the little bit of condensation of sweat that had accumulated on my lips huff off into a mist with the gesture.
“Well I’m sorry APW, but I can’t tell you that.”
I looked down again, my hands flexing within the tape that imprisoned them, the glittering gold of the Heavyweight title off to my right caught my eye for just a moment like a half remembered promise and my head turned for a few seconds. I opened my hands then and looked at my palms as if searching for an answer there.
“Because I’m not going out there tonight to be a hero. I’m not going out there to stop Level One because he’s a liar, or a cheat, or a bad guy, you already know all of that. I’m not going out there to defend this Heavyweight Title, though you all know that I’m doing that tonight too. I’m not here tonight to do what’s right.”
The light over my head flickered, the florescent bulb threatening to go out, and then flaring back to brilliance casting shadows over parts of my face in alternating detail. I ignored it, it was background… unimportant.
“Some of you may be disappointed in me for what I’m going to do tonight, and maybe you’re even right to be. But my little brother is laying in a hospital bed right now because of the actions of my opponent tonight, a kid who had no business inside a wrestling ring to begin with… and One decided to make an example of him to get my attention. Message received Lester, loud and clear. Tonight you’ll get your answer.”
My fists slowly closed, I could barely sit still, and I know the camera must have caught my frenetic energy as I sat there shifting moving as though I was ready to leap off that bench grab the camera itself and smash it into a thousand pieces all across the locker room floor.
“You’re going to get your answer in the blood I beat out of you inside that ring tonight! You’re going to get your answer in how much I shorten the rest of your career with no fear of disqualification. You’ve provoked a man who knows how to inflict ungodly amounts of pain on anyone… including you, and then removed the only barrier to my extracting my pound of flesh in vengeance and trust me when I say this Lester… I’m taking the whole thing. I’m going to take my vengeance on you in screams and in the pain I inflict on you tonight.”
“I made a promise when I came to APW… a promise that I was going to destroy the legend of Level One, that day by day night by night, month by month these people would see me expose you for what you really are. And I’ve lived up to it so far, and so I’ve driven you to attack others who can’t defend themselves. I know you think that’s got you into my head One, hell, maybe it even has a little. But it’s also given me the sent of desperation and panic in a man who can’t seem to put together a formula to get a win over me. It’s the blood in the water that just brings out the shark in me that wants to tear you to shreds!”
I could feel a faint twitch in my upper lip as it pulled back over my teeth baring them to the camera as I leaned forward a little bit more. My eyebrows pulled closer together intently.
“Was this what you envisioned Level One… was this what you wanted? A no DQ match with a man provoked to the extreme? Somewhere along the line you seem to have failed to learn the respect and fear that the name Payne has come to inspire in the hearts of the men who find themselves next to me on the card… despite the fact that I have beaten it into you on several occasions now. Fair enough. Obviously I haven’t beaten it into you with enough force… apparently the rules of the game don’t apply to Level One and to beat anything into that thick skull of yours I have to go beyond the rules, teach you a few manners the hard way! Well,” my voice crept down to a soft whisper, “you asked for it Lester… and now you’ve got it.”
“You have no out tonight, no escape from me. Not a rope, not a technicality, not even the fear of getting DQed myself… because you attacked my little brother and then gift wrapped me a pass to do ANYTHING I want to you! And I’m going to do it all. I’m going to tear your knee off and beat you to death with the leg Level One and you’re going to take it. I’m going to break you apart inside that damn ring and make you scream in pain and agony that you never dreamed of. Because tonight you’re in MY world, tonight I’m dragging you down into the Hell I keep bottled up inside myself the hell of broken florescent light bulbs and smashed cement blocks. The Hell of a man who hurt people for a living and tried to put that behind him. Tonight Level One, your Revelation is destruction.”
“I’m going to destroy you tonight because you want this title, you’re creaming your panties thinking you’re going to walk out of Winnipeg with the Heavyweight Title around your waist and go off to try to reclaim your Experts Crown too. But it’s not going to happen any of it. Because this match tonight isn’t about this title Level One. FUCK THE TITLE. If my career, if my life is the cost of breaking you out there tonight Level One I’m going to spend it. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try it’s never going to be enough to keep me down tonight you don’t have the will or the imagination to inflict the damage on me that would put me out tonight. You don’t have the heart to beat the fire out of my chest. I’m going to show you what true pain, true helplessness is tonight Lester. I’m all in, everything I’ve got and that I am, all the tomorrows and all of my yesterdays are right here in this moment… this single event: destruction.”
I curl my fingers inwards again having to fight myself to keep from grabbing the camera, actually reaching out for it before catching myself. My voice is lower than usual, almost guttural, my emotions raw, my rage palpable.
“I’m going to do to you tonight what you built your career doing to others. Tonight Level One you aren’t the hunter… but the hunted. You aren’t the most evil son of a bitch inside the ring… I AM and I’m going to break you tonight. You’re not making it to the Extreme Tournament this year Level One, because I’m sending you home in pieces TONIGHT!”
I couldn’t help it, I knew it was odd, but a little smile appeared on my face.
“Are you ready Level One? Because there’s an empty hospital bed in the ICU tonight, and I’ve already told them to expect you. Feel it punk. Tonight is the night I promised you would come, the night that all these people see you for the weak pathetic has been that you are. Tonight is the night that the legend of Level One comes crashing down around your ears and this title vanishes from in front of your eyes like a mirage in the desert. But you’re not even going to care about this title at the end of the night One, because tonight all you’re going to be worried about is if I ended your life! So measure the hours, measure the minutes, measure the seconds before our match because they’re all you have left. Tick…fucking…tock…Feel the Payne. Feel it and weep.”
The slow steady beeping of the heart monitor was Bryan’s only companion.
He sat in the ICU room where his brother remained unconscious almost twenty-four hours after the attack on him by Level One. The ‘example’ that One had made out of his little brother… the same kid who had once followed him around begging to please play catch just a few more minutes. The same kid that he’d done things he’d rather not remember to make sure he got what he needed growing up. Bryan closed his eyes for a moment, his hands rubbing either side of his nose as he suppressed a sigh that threatened to well up and likely become something altogether more…
His chair was seated directly next to the bed, a second pulled up for his feet, and a blue sports jacket was slung over his middle acting like a blanket, while his right hand held his brother’s as tightly as he dared. He hadn’t left Tim’s side since he’d been brought in here. He wasn’t sure what good it would do, but he knew it was something he just had to do, he owed that to his little brother. There’d been times when he’d ignored Tim, pushed him aside like he had his mother and some of his friends in the last six months. Things had just…. Spiraled on him. Where once he’d resolved to keep Tim out of this business by any means necessary he’d finally just caved and gotten him a trainer because sitting on the kid until he smartened up was just took too much time. Bryan knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew exactly who to blame for his brother laying there like this, but the fact of the matter was it didn’t have to be Level One who’d done this… it could have happened at anytime from enemies that Tim would make along the way.
His mother had been an absolute wreck. And rightly so. She’d come to except, reluctantly, that Bryan got his head bashed in on a routine basis, hell to be honest he really didn’t know what he’d do otherwise short of returning to the streets that he’d crawled out of to start with… and he had no interest in being muscle for some jumped up con man again. But Tim… the kid had had breaks he never got; precisely because Bryan was doing those things. He’d kept the kid out of jail, and except for the incident with a Yakuza underboss which was the whole reason he’d moved his family to the States.. out of trouble. Then again, that was kind of like saying, ‘well except for that pesky theory of relativity, space travel would be peachy keen!’
Bryan had to face the facts that he really had a lot over the years. He’d grown up a little over the last couple years, the guy who had broken bones for a few hundred bucks was never really that far from the surface however much polish he applied, but the willingness for that kind of… mindless violence just wasn’t there anymore. There was a time that he’d wrestled to prove that that change had happened… that he could do something other than that, to provide for his family… to make John proud of him, to prove to himself that he had at least changed in that he cared enough now to want to do the right thing. And that was certainly true enough. Now though? Now what was he wrestling for? Himself? Trying to build a legacy… fulfill the dreams of a dead man; dreams he had for a kid who no longer really existed? And if he was wrestling for himself now, how big of a price was he willing to let his family and friends pay to keep wrestling… before it was just too high?
This wasn’t the first time his friends or family had been targeted in an attempt to “get to” Bryan. And somewhere he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Generally he had a hands off attitude towards it; then again when the friends in question are Georgie and AC… well, they can more than take care of themselves right? Once upon a time John had been a target too, but that was a mistake on their part, underestimating the man because he’d been a ‘manager’ at the time, forgetting that once upon a time John “The Hammer” Henry had been on of the most feared in ring competitors in the South East United States. People had even used his mother and Tim in an attempt to get to him before, not in wrestling, but certainly when he’d worked for that same underboss that had gotten Tim in trouble. Bryan reached down underneath the jacket rubbing his right hip where the tattoo suddenly seemed to itch… the proof of what he’d been forever sealed in his very flesh.
The bottom line was that eventually people had learned not to screw around with Bryan like that. Because underneath the smiles and the jokes, and the attempt to be a good person… was one scary son of a bitch who got off on breaking folks in half. And every soft beep of that heart monitor echoed straight down into the pit of Bryan Payne’s stomach poking, prodding that dark corner of his soul and the Beast stirred. It pushed against the walls he’d erected against it, rebelled against the controlled ice cold image he presented his opponents, it raged against the prison he found itself in. And the barriers were weakening.
Beep…. Beep…. Beep.
The door clicked open as the handle was turned, and Bryan jerked his head up drawing a sharp breath. He stretched, realizing at some point he must have drifted off and looked over towards the door where a tall white man in the predictable coat breezed into the room to check on Tim. He watched the doctor for a few moments as he pulled his feet out of the second chair and shifted the one he was sitting in to the side to allow the doc access to all the various equipment and monitors, half of which Bryan didn’t even pretend to know what it was for, but figured it had a least a passing importance. He stifled a yawn, lowering his face with his elbows propped on his denim covered knees and rubbed his sleep deprived face.
“How is he doc?” Bryan said, surprised at how his voice sounded. Dry, brittle, though most of that was that he was dry, parched even, how long had he been asleep? It was difficult to say there weren’t any clocks and he hadn’t exactly taken time to gather up his watch and much of anything before he charged to the hospital at mach three to find out what had happened.
The doctor arched an eyebrow and looked up from the metal covered chart he’d been making notes on and tried to force a smile. It was a smile that was accustomed to faking it and not something that Bryan particularly appreciated now. He was sure in some manual somewhere they referred to that smile as “bed side manner” But right now he had to resist the urge not to send a balled fist to shatter that too white perfect tooth smile.
“We’ll know more when he wakes up Mr. Payne. He’s got a concussion from the head trauma, fractures… and you can see the bruising. But we won’t know if he’s had any brain damage until after he’s woken up.”
Bryan did sigh then. Brain damage? Really? What did this doctor mean, was Tim going to be a vegetable?
“What are you trying to say here?”
The doctor gave a little bit of a sigh and walked around the bed to where Bryan was sitting. He turned his face away from the doctor so he didn’t see how the Beast raged inside him then. That cold touch, the faint twitch of the fingers and around the eye that said that ‘fake smile’ face was about to look at him with false sympathy and lie to him. Bryan shoved it down with obvious effort, it screamed roared and clawed at him from the inside in protest.
The doctor seemed to sense something of it, because the hand was removed a little too hastily as Bryan tensed. “Uh. Well, what I’m saying is Mr. Payne is that he’s stable and he’s been badly injured. The trauma to his head is severe and until the swelling in the brain goes down… it’s almost impossible to predict the outcome. He’s in good hands here Mr. Payne… you’re not helping him by not sleeping yourself.. he’ll need you when he wakes up.”
Bryan bit back a retort to mind his own business, but then… he supposed if a doctor couldn’t tell you to get some sleep who the hell could right? So he nodded instead, looking up at the doctor and forcing a small fake smile of his own.
“Sure. Thanks doc, you’ve been great.”
The doctor nodded and flipped the chart closed, returning it to the holder at the foot of the bed before moving back towards the now open door. “Someone will be coming in a little while to check on him and we’ll call you the moment there’s any change.”
Bryan nodded a little bit on acknowledgement of the doctor’s comment and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs as he rubbed his face with both hands, trying to banish the sleep from his brain and collect his thoughts. Level One had crossed a line here, one that couldn’t be come back from. Attacking him was one thing… after all Bryan put himself in this kind of danger, but his little brother? The rest of his family? He even threatened his friends… what was he supposed to do with all of that knowledge but focus everything now, not just on beating Level One, but ending his career for good? Perhaps that was the only solution, however distasteful he found it.
Tim, Dr. Payne… Christ but that was a horrible ring name. How had he come up with it? But it wasn’t all that surprising. This was the same kid who had followed Bryan’s whole career religiously, always his biggest fan, amazingly resilient even while Bryan tried to force him away from the business. The kid was too small, too idealistic, and entirely too full of himself. A slow steady smirk formed on Bryan’s face as he considered that assessment, the same things had been said of him when he’d first started out. But John Henry had beaten and molded him added the muscle, enhanced his technical ability turned him into a wrestler who only need a few seconds and a single hold to end a match. Now, again, he was facing a man who didn’t care about the honor of anything… or making himself better or any of the virtues that Bryan held so near and dear. He was fighting a man who would do anything for the quick and easy way to win… and so Bryan was going to have to crawl down in the gutter with him.
His head came up again as the door clicked once more, and Bryan had to force his fist to unclench as he wrenched his mind away from Level One. There, standing in the doorway was none other than AC Thunder. The two men stared at each other for a moment, not saying much of anything as AC moved into the room proper and looked down at Tim, still unconscious, and pointedly avoided making eye contact with Bryan. The two men hadn’t spoken much in the last year. Not since the fallout after Cancun Clash, but then a lot of that had to do with Bryan’s impromptu retirement and then his return in APW… all while AC fought it out in SCW and now was helping to promote another wrestling promotion of his own.
Ultimately it was Bryan who broke the silence, clearing his throat softly first as he stood up and moved to stand beside AC.
“Thanks for coming AC.” The other man turned his head a bit and looked at Bryan, giving him a little bit of a nod.
“Sure. No problem. How is he?”
“He’ll live,” Bryan said, trying to force a smile but failing miserably, instead he just shook his head a bit before continuing, “He’s got swelling in his brain, they’re going to have to drill in and drain the blood to try to relieve the pressure or he’s looking at possible brain damage. Mom is flying in from San Diego as we speak, I’m really not looking forward to that, she’s going to flip.”
“Has he been awake since?”
“No. They brought him in out and they put him in what they called a ‘medically induced coma’ it’s touch and go.”
“Jesus…” AC shook his head and nodded towards the door. “You look like you could use a coffee… lets walk.”
Bryan looked to Tim, reluctant to leave the room if the truth was told, but he eventually allowed himself to be chided by AC out. The cold, stark, antiseptic walls of the hospital corridor greeting them. The florescent lights over head tended to wash everything out, color, seemingly the very life itself… it had always been the part of hospitals that Bryan hated, it made everything look like you were already dead.
The two men arrived at the coffee machine a few minutes later and began feeding coins into it. They hadn’t spoken much to this point, but it was measure of just how put out Bryan was that he was even entertaining this notion. Caffeine drinks right alongside red meat, sugar, and almost anything else people thought tasted good were things Bryan Payne tended to shun like the plague. But now, he did sip the bitter too strong brew and was grateful for it.
“So… belated congratulations on being a World Champ again,” AC quipped slightly dumping what appeared to be three pounds of sugar into his own cup.
Bryan snorted just a bit in reply, “Yeah… it’s proven an educational experience that’s for sure.”
“And now,” AC said removing his plastic coffee stirrer from between his teeth and flinging it into a nearby waste bin before leaning back against the wall, one foot up against the wall behind him to support and the other for balance out front, “you’re in a dog fight with Level One.”
“Pretty much.” Bryan said with a nod. “I figured we’d be having this conversation in reverse when we first formed Defiance Reborn you know. I’d just watched you in the Extreme Tournament fighting this guy twice… always thought you’d want a third crack at him.”
“I do.” AC said with a bit of a laugh, “But you’ve been doing well for yourself, hell you actually managed to beat the guy, I never did.”
“Bah. He’s still the third best thing to come out of Canada.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, you’re the second.”
For a moment AC seemed at war with himself before he finally got up the nerve to ask. “I know I’m going to regret this but… what’s the first?”
“John Candy of course.”
“John Ca-…. I thought you were going to say Pam Anderson… knowing you.”
Bryan and AC shared a slight chuckle.
“So, did Georgie put you up to having this talk with me?”
“You’re a paranoid son of a bitch Bryan Payne.” AC smirked slightly sipping from his coffee again.
“That’s not really an answer is it?” Bryan arched an eyebrow as he moved over to the wall beside AC and leaned against it similarly.
“I guess not, but no. I was in town trying to drum up support for GLW and well… I heard through the grapevine what happened, figured you’d be here.”
“It’s good to see you AC.” Bryan nodded sipping again from his own cup.
“Bryan..” AC sighed suddenly the coffee just didn’t taste quite right and he tossed the remainder into the trash along with the straw from earlier. “you didn’t listen to me last time I gave you some serious advise. So I’m going to give you some more right now… don’t fuck around with Lester alright? Because this is what happens. I know you, I know you’re going to poke this guy and keep poking him until he loses it, that’s what you do. You have two settings… needle someone to death and psycho death monkey… I’ve seen both and I have to tell you… I don’t know that either way is going to get this done. And now I hear you had this match changed to a No Disqualification match?! Are you nuts? That was your shot, because straight wrestling I dunno that Level One can beat you… but you’ve made this anything goes and there’s nobody nastier.”
“Didn’t have a choice. It’s me Level One wants. But he’s willing to settle for family and friends if he can’t get it. So my only option is to let this little bastard try every dirty trick he’s got every card in his desk so that when I put him down he knows in his soul he doesn’t have what it takes to deal with me. That’s really the only hope I have to end this. To put him down so hard that he’s done. Besides, I don’t want to get DQed in this thing either and I’d say I have some pretty strong motivation to cause massive bodily injury to this fat freak.”
“Lester isn’t fat…”
“Please, he’s almost three hundred pounds another couple burritos and the gas in that gut would put him into orbit!”
AC sputtered out a laugh and then shook his head.
“Fair enough Bryan, just… be careful alright. You may think you know what you’re doing, but this is never going to be over until one of you is all used up. Make sure it isn’t you.”
The two men shook hands with a feeling of gave solemnity and parted company, leaving Bryan alone drinking from his coffee cup for a few more minutes before heading back towards Tim’s room. AC was probably right. This wouldn’t end until he ended Level One once and for all, and a no DQ match gave him the tools to do it…
(***************)
Tim being in the hospital had made it hard to train. There was no way around that fact part of his head was just pulled in that direction wondering how he was doing, if any of the three planned surgeries might go wrong. His mother arriving finally had made it easier, he was able to leave the hospital knowing that if anything did happen, he’d get a phone call…but he’d also had to endure his mother’s heartfelt plea that he not wrestle anymore, that he turn in his belt and walk away. How could he possibly just walk away after this? The short answer was he couldn’t.
So he worked himself constantly, to the point he couldn’t think, to the point that that little part of his brain that kept nagging at him went quiet, shut down too tired to even worry. He worked until only the focus and the rage remained, burning white hot in the center of his chest. A steady double thump like an anvil in his brain as one face, one goal circled around in his mind’s eye: destroy Level One.
How did one accomplish that goal? Men had tried it before… men far more accomplished than Bryan Payne, and all of them had ultimately failed. In this business there were few living Legends, even fewer that stood above them all and they didn’t get there by being soft targets for every hungry up and comer who wanted a piece. They got there by taking on the best… and beating them. How was ultimately less important than the fact that they had beaten them. Gone to war with the best in this business and emerged pure and stronger on the other side while the other suffered the fading of their star the little lost of luster… what MDK had once termed “AC Thunder losing his smile…”
But in the laws of logic and circumstance there was also one incontrovertible fact; no one had ever emerged on the other side on top of Bryan Payne. So far that no one included Level One who’d gotten the best of him at the Contenders Gauntlet Match it was true… but outside interference at Survive and Conquer didn’t count as a win in his favor, and since Bryan showed up in APW for real he’d defeated Level One at every turn. This attack… this cowardly attempt to get into Bryan’s head was the cry of a truly desperate man. And why shouldn’t he be desperate? For two months now Bryan had been screaming to the world that Level One was washed up, on the way down… and now he’d slipped out of TFWF with his tail between his legs… seen his plan to get a shot at Pence slip through his fingers at Mayhem, and come up short with his fingers almost brushing the title in the Triple Threat Match on Overdrive… Now? They’d face off again. Now Bryan was pissed.
He’d been this mad going into a match before… against Pence the first time in SCW… when the guy had come into HIS house all puffed up and calling him out before he’d even managed to warm up the bench in his locker room… when Stu Who had made their four month long feud deadly personal… in DEW when Robb McBride had ambushed him with his new stable and left him a bloody mess delivering the worst beating he’d ever gotten in his career. He’d been this mad at Ryan Ruckus and Ornery Hillman… Each time he’d picked himself up out of whatever mess they had drug down around him put his head down and knocked his way through whatever stood in his path to get what he wanted. When the lights were brightest Bryan Payne found an extra gear. The bigger the stakes the faster his heart beat, the more adrenaline surged though him and when you combined that with the desire to cause grievous bodily injury on one Lester Only, you came to understand why Bryan Payne had developed a reputation as a guy you just didn’t piss off. It was one thing to endure his jokes, and jibes, his little insinuations… but getting this guy mad at you brought out the killer that lurked inside….
(Four Days Later)
I zipped up my gym bag and pulled it on over my shoulder. I always found public places to work out when on the road…. And it had been a while since I’d had to do that on a regular basis. There was just something about the energy of other people that helped to keep me focused. Not only that but long ago it had started as a way to help me get used to crowds and being watched, now it was just force of habit. I probably could have a slightly more private space now… I was working again, my finances were starting to pull back into order and winning the belt had brought back a few of the endorsement offers that had originally drug me into the realm of having a bit of money. They’d abandoned me after John died, not that I blamed them, I had gone off the deep end and tried to drown the guilt in the bottom of a bottle. All I’d found there were bad memories and almost lost the rest of the people I cared about along the way. But my friends had pulled me back, my family had been there to dust me off and protect me from prying eyes while I put my life and career back together. Now I had to protect them. Now, I had to become Payne again, not the Revelation I’d been for so long, but the Wolfman.
The kid whose temper had earned me a reputation for acts of brutal violence in the ring; the kid who had enjoyed it. I know I’m different now, but I can feel that kid still deep down where I kept my guts and this was my choice: enter this match at war with myself, or give over and unleash that darker path, that part of me that I’d learned hard lessons on fearing. Because I’m older now, wiser, and the man that I am now knows that if I let that genie out of the bottle I might never be able to stuff it back inside and it could destroy me no less than the liquor and the guilt had threatened to do a few months ago. But if I could focus right, prepare right, I could hand Level One a defeat the likes of which he would never recover from.
I stepped from the locker room, the door’s hinges squeeking as they shut behind me almost obscuring the sound of heels clicking against the floor as Karen emerged at my side. A nice navy colored pinstripe pantsuit, that frankly set off her ass amazingly (hey I’m a one woman man, but I never claimed to be a saint!), drew my eyes for a moment as she was looking down at a clipboard she was taking notes on, and then she looked up meeting my gaze (dutifully raised in time) and we walked towards the entrance of the gym.
“So I moved the photo shoot until after the Extreme Tournament, and that meeting with Ray Ban…” I watched her pause just a moment, the faintest sign of a pout forming against her full lips before she nodded. I couldn’t get over how young she was. Nineteen, and I’d continually heaped more and more responsibility on her shoulders and not only had she taken it, but thrived. I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant/manager/travel companion and without her help I don’t think I’d be able to keep my life in order anymore. I imagine if I’d really wanted to I could have streamlined and changed… but I didn’t like to let my head get cluttered with the day to day details, I liked to stay focused on my training and my opponent.
“Yes?” I said prompting her gently. One of Karen’s few failings, in addition to being a horrible driver, is that she’s got a habit of starting a sentence and then not realizing that she’s stopped talking in the middle. Oh inside her head she’s finished the thought, but to the rest of us out here on planet Earth we’ve got no clue!
“Hmm? Oh, you’ll meet with them after Test for the Best, but I put my foot down on the scheduling you’ll have a full week to speed with your Mom while Tim is in post-op.”
“Good,” I said with a faint nod, watching her blonde hair jingle as she nodded back. “Any word…?”
“You know be better than that Bryan,” I flinched ever so slightly at the gentle jibe, “I’d have come gotten you the moment I had.” And it was true, like I’d said before, she really was the best.
“I know, sorry… just…”
“You’re worried,” She paused, placing a hand on my forearm to make me stop and turn me slightly, “And I know. Georgie did call though, wants an update when you get the chance wouldn’t get off the phone until I swore not to interrupt you. Why didn’t you let her fly up for this?”
“She’s… got enough on her own plate right now Karen. And so do I.”
“…right…” she nodded again and I marveled at her ability to take it all in stride.
I pushed the door open, reaching up to push my shades down to cover my eyes a split second before the tinted windows gave way to the harsh sunlight. I hated Canada… no, it’s true, I really did hate Canada. It wasn’t the people’s fault, but I couldn’t stand the weather… and any Nation responsible for Maple syrup and Tim Hortons seriously had issues!
“Well there he is, Bryan Payne.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d come so far in the last year, hell the last two but I’d never been able to completely get away from this psycho bitch. Temptation Knox. She was a reporter… a hack really, peddling sensationalist gossip for several wrestling publications online and in print. She’d been on my ass ever since I turned her down for an interview backstage in one of my very first US appearances and had seem to have a hardon, if you’ll pardon the expression, for making my life a living hell since. It had been her that had broken the story about myself and Georgie, selling pictures to Ornery Hillman that had almost created a disaster. Hounded us for months afterwards until I’d vanished from public sight all together following the death of John Henry. And now, here she was in the reincarnated flesh like Beelzebub rising from Hell itself.
My eyes flickered over the camera crew and the microphone in her hand, and I heard Karen gasp in astonishment. She’d blame herself for this… I’d have to do something about that later.
“So, Bryan Payne,” Temptation said as I watched the six foot Amazonian redhead saunter over towards me holding the microphone in her hand like a fucking stake she intended to drive through my heart. Think it’s wrong to be afraid of a reporter? Yeah you try dealing with this bitch buddy! “Training hard again I see, ready to defend another World Title while your little brother lies in his hospital bed. Do you have any comments for our audience as to why you care so little about your families welfare?”
“I care abo-“
“- Or perhaps,” she said cutting me off before I’d barely gotten two words out, “you’d like to comment on the rumors of a break up between you and Miss Nickles?”
“What breakup!?” That was Karen stepping up beside me with a rather indignant look on her features.
“Oh so you’re still keeping secrets from those closest to you Bryan? Or is she the reason you broke up to begin with?”
“Now just a damn minute here,” I began taking a step forward with my finger raised.
“Oh I think we have the minute of footage we need Bryan, thanks.” Temptation made a slashing motion with her hand and I watched the camera guy pull it down off it shoulder and lumber off towards the parking lot. “Always a sucker huh Payne?” She smirked and walked right up to me, pushing the microphone into the center of my chest her lips curling back into a half snarl. “By the time I’m done with this you’re going to wish like hell you’d never heard of Temptation Knox..”
“Too late.” I said. I know I shouldn’t have. Hell this chick was already mad enough at me and egging her on wouldn’t do any good, but seeing the change of her features and the giggle off to my left where Karen slapped a hand over her mouth in a vain attempt to contain it… was well worth it. “And a word of advise Miss Knox…. Tic Tac.”
“You bastard. I’m going to ruin you, just you wait. By the time I’m done with you buster the whole world is going to know what a piece of crap you really are, I’m going to hound you right out of this industry… I can see it now.. a piece on your brother as one of the little people, the human wreckage sacrificed to the glory of Bryan Payne! Your tearful mother left alone to care for him while you are out hogging the spotlight with your little tart girlfriend.” Temptation sneered again. “The piece on the downfall of Bryan Payne after Level One kicks your ass all over Canada… And when it’s over Bryan, when I’ve driven your family your friends, and broke you and little Georgie up… and you’re sitting there all alone… you’ll see ME Bryan, with the NEXT big thing while you watch your career go straight down the toi-“
I heard it before I saw it, the fist flying from my life connecting with Temptation’s jaw. I blinked several times, the blur almost being too fast for my eyes to follow. But the busty redhead falling backwards, her impeccably manicured hands flailing for purchase in thin air, the full lip busted open the faint splatter of blood on her alabaster cheek, and the sound of her squawk as her butt crashed to the asphalt is a memory that is going to bring a smile to my face forty years from now.
“OH GOD!” I jerked my head to the side as Karen danced around shaking her hand in the air and flexing her fingers, “that hurt so SO bad.. oh god!”
“Karen!” I said, holding back a laugh as I looked back to the fallen Temptation who was looking up, if anything with even more hate in her eyes that before! For the briefest of moments I wondered what kind of she-goat gave birth to this horror of a human being, but the thought was interrupted.
“You little bitch.. I’m gonna-“ Temptation shuffled backwards with a yelp as Karen charged forward stopped only as I looped an arm around her waist and literally picked her up into the air, but even that couldn’t stop her legs from flailing around a the reporter and sending her high heels flying in all directions as I drug her away literally kicking and screaming. I’d thought that was just a metaphor! Welcome to my fucking life America.
“I’m going to ruin you Payne!” Came the shrill cry of impotent rage as her camera crew surrounded Temptation pulling her to her feet, “do you hear me! I’m going to ruin you!”
“Karen Foster, you’ve just punched out an internationally known reporter,” I said, still laughing as I got her back inside the gym, her face puffy from the anger and the fighting flush, “what are you going to do now?”
Karen looked at me for a moment, and continued to hold her hand like it might be broken and I tenderly reached over taking it and brushed my fingers gently over the back of it, feeling for swelling. I looked around for a minute and then whistled sharply between my teeth as the first guy who worked there.
“Hey, get me some ice for her hand will ya? And… call the police, there’s a disturbance in the parking lot.”
The kid looked shocked for a moment as he looked outside to see Temptation shouting obscenities non-stop at her camera crew and then I watched him blink in astonishment and dash off in the direction of the ice machine. I looked back at Karen who had her bottom lip stuck out in a pretty little pout and as I looked back at her hand I heard the slap of her foot stomping against the floor as we both regarded the jagged remains of a French tip.
“I broke a nail….”
Welcome to my life America.
(************)
(12 Hours before Test for the Best.)
“This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that everything is going to be alright,” I said softly from my perch on the backstage bench of the arena. “This is the part that I’m supposed to tell you that I’m going to go out there and win because I’m the good guy and he’s the bad guy and that’s the way the story is supposed to end.” My eyes drifted upwards, my elbows resting heavily against my knees as the curls at the front of my hairline drifted down partly obscuring my eyes. “This is the part where I’m supposed to be the hero.”
I let out a slow steadying breath, feeling the little bit of condensation of sweat that had accumulated on my lips huff off into a mist with the gesture.
“Well I’m sorry APW, but I can’t tell you that.”
I looked down again, my hands flexing within the tape that imprisoned them, the glittering gold of the Heavyweight title off to my right caught my eye for just a moment like a half remembered promise and my head turned for a few seconds. I opened my hands then and looked at my palms as if searching for an answer there.
“Because I’m not going out there tonight to be a hero. I’m not going out there to stop Level One because he’s a liar, or a cheat, or a bad guy, you already know all of that. I’m not going out there to defend this Heavyweight Title, though you all know that I’m doing that tonight too. I’m not here tonight to do what’s right.”
The light over my head flickered, the florescent bulb threatening to go out, and then flaring back to brilliance casting shadows over parts of my face in alternating detail. I ignored it, it was background… unimportant.
“Some of you may be disappointed in me for what I’m going to do tonight, and maybe you’re even right to be. But my little brother is laying in a hospital bed right now because of the actions of my opponent tonight, a kid who had no business inside a wrestling ring to begin with… and One decided to make an example of him to get my attention. Message received Lester, loud and clear. Tonight you’ll get your answer.”
My fists slowly closed, I could barely sit still, and I know the camera must have caught my frenetic energy as I sat there shifting moving as though I was ready to leap off that bench grab the camera itself and smash it into a thousand pieces all across the locker room floor.
“You’re going to get your answer in the blood I beat out of you inside that ring tonight! You’re going to get your answer in how much I shorten the rest of your career with no fear of disqualification. You’ve provoked a man who knows how to inflict ungodly amounts of pain on anyone… including you, and then removed the only barrier to my extracting my pound of flesh in vengeance and trust me when I say this Lester… I’m taking the whole thing. I’m going to take my vengeance on you in screams and in the pain I inflict on you tonight.”
“I made a promise when I came to APW… a promise that I was going to destroy the legend of Level One, that day by day night by night, month by month these people would see me expose you for what you really are. And I’ve lived up to it so far, and so I’ve driven you to attack others who can’t defend themselves. I know you think that’s got you into my head One, hell, maybe it even has a little. But it’s also given me the sent of desperation and panic in a man who can’t seem to put together a formula to get a win over me. It’s the blood in the water that just brings out the shark in me that wants to tear you to shreds!”
I could feel a faint twitch in my upper lip as it pulled back over my teeth baring them to the camera as I leaned forward a little bit more. My eyebrows pulled closer together intently.
“Was this what you envisioned Level One… was this what you wanted? A no DQ match with a man provoked to the extreme? Somewhere along the line you seem to have failed to learn the respect and fear that the name Payne has come to inspire in the hearts of the men who find themselves next to me on the card… despite the fact that I have beaten it into you on several occasions now. Fair enough. Obviously I haven’t beaten it into you with enough force… apparently the rules of the game don’t apply to Level One and to beat anything into that thick skull of yours I have to go beyond the rules, teach you a few manners the hard way! Well,” my voice crept down to a soft whisper, “you asked for it Lester… and now you’ve got it.”
“You have no out tonight, no escape from me. Not a rope, not a technicality, not even the fear of getting DQed myself… because you attacked my little brother and then gift wrapped me a pass to do ANYTHING I want to you! And I’m going to do it all. I’m going to tear your knee off and beat you to death with the leg Level One and you’re going to take it. I’m going to break you apart inside that damn ring and make you scream in pain and agony that you never dreamed of. Because tonight you’re in MY world, tonight I’m dragging you down into the Hell I keep bottled up inside myself the hell of broken florescent light bulbs and smashed cement blocks. The Hell of a man who hurt people for a living and tried to put that behind him. Tonight Level One, your Revelation is destruction.”
“I’m going to destroy you tonight because you want this title, you’re creaming your panties thinking you’re going to walk out of Winnipeg with the Heavyweight Title around your waist and go off to try to reclaim your Experts Crown too. But it’s not going to happen any of it. Because this match tonight isn’t about this title Level One. FUCK THE TITLE. If my career, if my life is the cost of breaking you out there tonight Level One I’m going to spend it. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try it’s never going to be enough to keep me down tonight you don’t have the will or the imagination to inflict the damage on me that would put me out tonight. You don’t have the heart to beat the fire out of my chest. I’m going to show you what true pain, true helplessness is tonight Lester. I’m all in, everything I’ve got and that I am, all the tomorrows and all of my yesterdays are right here in this moment… this single event: destruction.”
I curl my fingers inwards again having to fight myself to keep from grabbing the camera, actually reaching out for it before catching myself. My voice is lower than usual, almost guttural, my emotions raw, my rage palpable.
“I’m going to do to you tonight what you built your career doing to others. Tonight Level One you aren’t the hunter… but the hunted. You aren’t the most evil son of a bitch inside the ring… I AM and I’m going to break you tonight. You’re not making it to the Extreme Tournament this year Level One, because I’m sending you home in pieces TONIGHT!”
I couldn’t help it, I knew it was odd, but a little smile appeared on my face.
“Are you ready Level One? Because there’s an empty hospital bed in the ICU tonight, and I’ve already told them to expect you. Feel it punk. Tonight is the night I promised you would come, the night that all these people see you for the weak pathetic has been that you are. Tonight is the night that the legend of Level One comes crashing down around your ears and this title vanishes from in front of your eyes like a mirage in the desert. But you’re not even going to care about this title at the end of the night One, because tonight all you’re going to be worried about is if I ended your life! So measure the hours, measure the minutes, measure the seconds before our match because they’re all you have left. Tick…fucking…tock…Feel the Payne. Feel it and weep.”
