Post by Kenzi Grey on Oct 21, 2017 16:24:10 GMT -5
LAW HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA
Pre-Party Meeting with The Boardwalk Angels
October 17, 2017
I had been filled with a bit of trepidation over meeting Farrah and Madigan to discuss plans for the Halloween Extravaganza that we had planned the night before LAW 71. It had been some time since I had crossed paths with the tag team champions, and after our long running battle I had expected a bit of tension, but there was none of that at all. In fact, it was quite pleasant. Team Kickass and The Boardwalk Angels, sitting down together talking about Halloween decorations and giggling over all of the whacky contest ideas that our fearsome foursome could come up with. Bobbing for apples that were made up like little pumpkins, a rousing game of pin the tail on the werewolf, and a whole bunch of other made up games that made the four of us giggle our collective asses off. It was almost like we weren’t going to try to beat each other’s brains out on Sunday, but in fact we were going to do just that. All the same, until that moment came, we were like old friends that hadn’t seen one another in a very long while and we were finally getting reacquainted after a long absence from one another.
By the end of the night, I really did feel like we were the best of friends, but I knew that when that bell rung if I thought I was going to get anything that would remotely pass for a hug from the two of them, I had better wake up and smell the coffee. Sarah had said it many times, out of all the champions of LAW, the only ones that were consistent and put their best foot forward every time were these two. Unlike Sarah, who had only faced them once, I had faced them on more than one occasion and I knew full well what to expect on Sunday. The Tag Team Champions were in that spot for a reason. They hadn’t jumped anyone from behind to steal a number one contender’s spot, they hadn’t won their title and gone months without a defense or mention of who they were and when they might fight next. They were exceptional champions…and quite frankly, it made me extraordinarily jealous…and amazingly focused and driven.
This is what I wanted, the chance to be a respected champion, a chance to show all of LAW that I could be more than just the sum of their collective memory of the person I use to be. The girl who was always in the shadow of her overbearing mother, the girl who lost every match her rookie year, the girl who had to cheat to win her first and only title in LAW…and the girl that management wishes would just go away. I would like to know what it feels like just once to be respected for my accomplishments inside the ring and to be held up as an example to people of what they should aspire to. I don’t know if Farrah and Madigan realize how good they have it…I don’t know if they know how badly I crave it. I want what they have and I have already promised myself that I will do everything in my power to get it!
As we finish up our meeting and finalize our plans for Saturday, I can’t help but to look at the two of them and wonder if I were in their shoes, would I still be the person that I am? Had Kate and I won the Tag Team Titles, would I be better…or maybe, would I be worse? Would I have been a proud champion that everyone looked at and pointed to as any example of the way they wanted to carry themselves, or would I have been just plain old rotten cheating ass Kenzi Grey? My money is on the latter, given the way that championship match ended. There wasn’t a stitch of honor in the depths that I had sunk to in order to win. My partner had given up on me…having waited until the very last minute to even show up and try to win the match. We were doomed from the start, and if that first pinfall would have counted, it would have been just like my very first win in the company, still counted as a loss by the man in charge.
…I hated to admit it, but losing that match was the best thing that ever happened to me…
Desperation had made me a laughing stock before, even though I had started to rack up wins. I didn’t care how I got them, as long as I did. I took the Chaos Title and for a brief time, I was LAW…at least I was in my mind. I carried that title with such pride that people thought it was permanently attached to my body. I thought that I could will the masses into accepting me and seeing me the way I saw myself, but that was a grave miscalculation on my part. I wasn’t anything and Lucas Dupree told me to my face that I was as worthless as all of the wins I had amassed. I didn’t want to listen, and part of me still doesn’t want to…but standing across from The Angels and catching a glimpse of how it could have been…how it still might be…it drives me to want what they have even more, more than I have wanted anything else in a very long time.
I pause and stop Farrah and Madigan with a single point of interest…the only one that I had for the entirety of the Halloween Extravaganza…
“Hey…could you guys do me a HUGE favor and no matter what…don’t come tomorrow dressed as clowns…okay?”
The three of them laugh, probably thinking that I am about to make a joke, but my face remains deadly serious. The laughter dies down and Sarah is the first to realize how serious I am when she takes my hand and feels the dampness there. She squeezes my hand, then look at Farrah and Madigan and the point is made without another word. In the end, that was a bit of a low point in our otherwise great meeting, and as per the usual I end up being the fly in the ointment.
Part of me wonders if that will be my role in the match come Sunday night. Will I be the thing that derails us in our very first match as a true tag team in LAW. I hope that’s not the case…I hope that I overcome all the horrible thoughts swirling around inside my head and I maintain the momentum I built after failing at Queen of the Ring. I need to do better…I have to do better. If I want what The Angels have, I have to prove it inside the ring…
LACKLANLAND WEST
West Hollywood, California
The following day, Sarah pressed me over the whole ‘clown’ thing, but I wasn't interested in talking about it. I wanted to keep my thoughts on what mattered, facing The Angels on Sunday and working to correct the mistakes I made in the past. My dream from the night before was still a bother to me. The addition of clown talk, was a distraction that I just didn’t need right now. Bottom line, I had my reasons for my Coulrophobia, or rather, my fear of clowns. It was my issue, and I didn’t want to talk about it…now or ever. My focus was on the ring, and I kept my attention total. Saturday’s festivities were for the fans, but Sunday night would be for me.
…little did I know, my wife was not going to be as quick to let things go as I had hoped…
Unbeknownst to Kenzi at the time, Sarah was in the bedroom smiling at herself in the mirror of their West Hollywood apartment. She finished pulling on the right side of her head, getting the pigtails of her platinum hair just right. She stood back to examine herself in the full-length mirror, feeling as sexy as she ever had. The Harley Quinn costume she had commissioned fit better than she could have imagined; the top was so tight that her breasts were nearly spilling out, her abs looked like rocks where her midriff showed, and the shorts were so small that half of her ass was out for the world to see. Knee high ‘fuck me’ boots completed the ensemble and she couldn't help but feel a mixture of lust and worry. This ‘therapy’ session for Kenzi's fear of clowns was either going to lead to so many orgasms that the married woman could sail out of the apartment on the ship she had dubbed The Red Queen...or it would lead to Kenzi running away, screaming in fright. Sarah took a deep breath, ninjaing out of the room and to the side of the couch, where her wife was hard at work watching footage of her last match against the Boardwalk Angels. Sarah slowly let out harsh breath and speaks in the Brooklyn accent she had been working on.
"Whatcha doin', Mrs. G-L?"
I turned and looked at Sarah and the remote control slipped out of my hand and clattered across the floor. Rather than look after it, my eyes were locked on the sight of her. It gave me a start at first, but as I blinked my eyes I realized that it wasn’t a clown, but my lovely wife. The worry on Sarah's face deepened for a moment as she thought that I might flee, but instead I smiled, the realization of the game setting in on me. "The Joker's girlfriend..." Then my smile faltered a bit. I took an uneasy breath, then stalked over to her and put my arms around her. Sarah could tell that the game had not yet begun. "...he's a clown..." I put my forehead against hers, still trembling a bit. "...a fucking clown..."
I had been deep into analyzing match strategies in the hopes of finding a hole in the game of The Boardwalk Angels. I wanted to be prepared this time when I faced them since I had a partner that I could count on this time around, but…this distraction, wasn’t entirely unwelcome…just ill advised. Sarah touched the side of my face, the concern that was etched in hers was apparent. “We don’t have to do this Beloved, I can see that you’re bothered. I-I just thought that this might…help.” She turned to leave, “I’ll just take it off and we…”
I grabbed her by her hand, stopping her. My heart was racing in my chest, all the same as I did. I pulled her back, pleased that she would take the time to explore my phobia, though I wasn’t certain that was what I really wanted. Looking her up and down, dressed as she was, made it far easier. I took a deep breath. "...would you...help me...with my makeup...?" Even as the words tumble out of my mouth, I want to immediately take them back. It’s only my love for her that allows me to move forward, knowing full well why this is probably a terrible idea.
Sarah squeezed my hand and pulled me through the room, into our bedroom, sitting me down on one of the stools in front of our ‘beauty stations’ for lack of a better name. Sarah carefully whispered as she had us look in the mirror together and played with my braids. "...do you want to talk about it?"
I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head as I pushed down those conflicting emotions. If I could get through this, then there would be nothing to discuss. I could get back to the business of preparing for our match on Sunday night…there would be no fuss and I wouldn’t have to relive anything from my past…a past that still haunted and bothered me to this day. "...no...just help me first...maybe...afterwards..."
Sarah squeezed my shoulder as she went to her massive makeup collection and returned with a bit of face cream and red lipstick that matched her eyes. I could tell that she was still concerned, she could see how tense I was. She could see that I was putting on a brave front, but maybe she respected that and knew that I would find my own way pass this, together…as a team inside the ring and in life. Sarah knelt down in front of me as she first applied a bit of the white cream to my face, not a lot, but enough to produce the desired effect. Next, she carefully applied the lipstick to my lips, including little lines to mimic the smile scars. When she was done, she cocked her head to the side and nodded, "That will do," she whispered, closing the lipstick and setting it down. "Article Three...you can tap out at any time, no questions asked."
She stood back, allowing me some breathing room as she slid back into character, placing her hands on her hips, making her curves jut out. "You never answered me, Mrs. G-L," she says in her affected Brooklyn voice. "Whatcha doin'?"
I glanced at myself in the mirror then turned away quickly. I could feel a chill at the base of my spine as the white face and the curious red smile tugged a memory that I didn’t want rushing back up to meet me. Certainly not now when I had made so many positive stride in my life. Somethings were better off buried down deep…never to be brought back to the surface. I took a breath, collecting myself, closing my eyes tightly...so tightly that it was painful. I had no desire to see myself that way, I had no desire to see anyone that way. When I finally opened then, Sarah could she a marked change in my demeanor...playful, but malevolent as I accessed that part of myself that allowed me to become someone else in front of the camera. She might have assumed that I was just playing a role, but she would have been wrong…I was falling back into a memory I had buried so deeply that I thought I might never have to face it again…but that wasn’t the case at all.
My voice changed in bother timbre and force as I allowed a darker side of my personality to take control. "Harley..." my dark eyes roamed over and fell on her, taking in her many curves...my hands rubbing together. "...I was contemplating how much I enjoy bringing a smile to that lovely face of yours...and...how much I enjoy wiping it away and making you cry..." I stood up abruptly, acting as much on raw instinct as much as I was just playing a part. "Why couldn't the chicken cross the road?" I waited a beat. "Because it was dead!" I laughed...or actually cackled as I watched her reaction.
Sarah paused, looking at me and taking in the change. I wasn’t sure what she thought of it, but she gave me a heated chuckle after a fashion. "I sure do love your jokes, Mrs. G-L." She ran a hand over my braids as she lightly grazed her own chest with the other. "They get me all worked up. See?" She pinched herself through her top. "I love them almost as much as when you get rough with me." She gave an exaggerated wink. "Almost."
I grinned, but I could feel that it was overly toothy and malevolent. I grabbed a handful of her nearly exposed breast and squeezed it roughly. "Harley...what kind of bees make milk?" I waited a bit and gave her a hard pinch. "Boobies!" Again came that malevolent laugh. This time I shoved my hand into the front of her tight shorts. "Don't mind me, the President said it’s okay...I'm famous!"
Sarah gave a giggle at the joke and even gave in to the intimate violation. She loved these kinds of games, but this one was different…she just didn’t know it yet. "Oh, Mrs. G-L!" She leans forward as the sheer fun of the scenario was exciting her. He hands squeeze and tug at my braids as she can't help but groan. "If...you're not busy...I wouldn't mind...if you made me cry…"
It was like I was watching a movie, it wasn’t me…and yet it was. I grabbed her roughly by her face, my eyes were dark and hard. "Cry? You'll fucking cry alright...you'll fucking cry!" I grabbed her roughly, shoving her back against the wall, then throwing her down roughly. I was on her in an instant, hands all over, rough and hard. I think that it was a game…at first, but I was lost in a memory that was dark and terrible. Sarah still thought we were playing, at least for a few more moments, but my arm around her throat made it clear that the game was over.
Sarah was use to our rough games, she craved them at times when she needed a particular kind of release…but this was not that kind of game. I choked her with one arm as my other hand roughly ripped at her desperately squirming body. She gasped for air, even as she tried to squirm away. "BE STILL...it will hurt less." My arm tightened around her neck, starving her of air as I spoke…I wasn’t even sure if it was even to Sarah anymore. "Are you crying yet?! I WANT TO HEAR YOU CRY!!!"
Sarah was a strong woman, certainly my physical superior, but I had the dominant position and she had no leverage to upend me. She gasped for air and fought against me, but I heard and felt none of it. I wasn’t there in the room with her anymore…I was elsewhere, reliving a memory that had shattered my younger self and planted the seeds of this ridiculous phobia.
"CRY!!! CRY!!! CRY YOU BLACK FUCKING BITCH!!! YOU CRY!!!" I felt her begging for it to end, crying out for it to stop...but I pushed on, lost inside a memory of my own, anger and searing rage driving me. Over and over I heard the voice as I spoke the words, "CRY YOU BLACK BITCH! FUCKING CRY!!" It wasn't until I felt the tap…our precious Article 3 that she had mentioned earlier, which finally snapped me out of the horrific memory. It was the touch that the two of us shared that did it.
I withdrew from Sarah quickly. My mouth agape and eyes wide in horror over what I had just done. I stood up and backed away, mumbling, over and over "...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." I turned and saw my face in the mirror, painted and smudged...but still it filled me with fright. I bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door as I went to the sink and started violently scrubbing my face to get the clown makeup off. This was what I was afraid of, what I had warned Farrah, Madigan, and even my sweet Sarah about. I rubbed so hard that my face was streaked red. I crumbled to the floor, scooting against the wall as I wondered what I'd done…how I’d lost control.
In the next room, Sarah could feel the tears streaming down her face. She didn't know when she started crying, but she knew that they were hot and coming fast. She got to her feet and made her way over to the door and knocked weakly. "...baby?"
As I heard the knock at the door and got to my feet, wiping my face. I felt like an idiot…I knew full well that this was a game that I shouldn’t have been playing, yet I let my desire to please my wife override common sense. I opened the door and immediately fell into Sarah's arms, hugging and kissing her, as words of apology flooded from my mouth. "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry..." I didn't cry, but I was shaken to my very core.
Sarah pulled me down to the floor so that we were facing one another, then she pulled me into a hug. It was one that was sorely needed. It took Sarah a moment to compose herself, but she is able to get the tears to stop. "...can we talk?"
I took a deep breath, trembling a bit with the old memory hanging over my head like a dark cloud. I looked at Sarah, finally noticing that I wasn’t the only one shaken by the experience. I took Sarah’s hand inside my own as I apologized again, “Baby…I’m sorry…I’m sooooo sorry!”
Sarah fought to keep her hand from shaking in mine. She licked her lips as she held me in her gaze, trying to focus. "...what was that?"
I didn’t want to think about it…I had warned them that I didn’t want to be reminded of this, but…it was too late now. I took a shuddering breath, my entire body shaking as I try to calm myself. I hadn’t thought about this in years, though the memory of it all still ran hot whenever I was reminded of that time…as I was today. I should have told her this months ago, if to do nothing but unburden my soul, but now that failing was moot. I started to tell my story, my hands working themselves into a fist that was knotted at my side.
“Bobby Robinson…a boy who lived near me growing up. I didn’t know him well…he was older…much older…he was special.” I shook her head, knowing that I didn’t need to be politically correct with Sarah, but I was anyway. “I…I was friends with his cousin, Tammy…she visited often and we were very close…real close.” I closed my eyes, picturing her face from all those many years ago. “Tammy use to cry and tell me about Bobby always hitting her…doing things to her. I-I didn’t know what she meant back then…not like I know now. But Bobby would dress up like a clown and take advantage of Tammy. She would cry and try to tell her aunt, but she never listened…just told her not to mind him because he wasn’t right in the head.” I squeezed Sarah’s hand as the story took another turn, a much darker one…if that was even possible.
I gathered myself, “One day, Tammy came to the house in tears…she was hurt…bad. My gram wasn’t home…then Bobby came…he was dressed up and calling for Tammy. Trying to apologize, but we told him we were calling the police…” I paused, the memory becoming more vivid in my mind now, “…we weren’t…we should have.” I lowered my head and closed my eyes. “Bobby was a big kid and he came in through a side window. We ran…we ran and we screamed. We tried to hide. I ran into my gram’s bedroom and Tammy was right there…and then…she wasn’t…” I swallowed, and I could literally feel the color draining from my cheeks. “I heard him outside the door with her…hurting her…doing…things…screaming at me to come out. I was…I was crying so hard. He kept screaming…CRY BITCH! CRY YOU BLACK BITCH!” I shrugged as I wrapped my arms around myself, doing what I could to comfort myself enough to get through the story. “Maybe he was talking to Tammy…I don’t know…I just don’t know. I just…I just remember his face…all painted up…like a clown.” I lowered my face into my hands and just sat there.
Sarah's tears fell fresh again as she listened to my story. She and I shared our lives together, but each held secrets, or stories that we held close to ourselves. This was just the latest example. "I had no idea." Sarah looked down at what remained of her Harley Quinn costume. "I'm so sorry. I didn't-" She had to gulp to keep from sobbing. "Please forgive me."
I understood that she felt she had played a part in the pain I now felt, but that was really not the case at all. The pain was always there, buried and festering. She had helped to bring it to the surface and maybe now it could heal. “It’s not your fault…you didn’t know, and I didn’t talk about it…ever. I didn’t tell…I didn’t tell…never…even when Tammy told the police. They asked me…and…I still didn’t tell. I never ever told anyone!” I swallowed down my shame and it tasted like bile, hot and nasty in the back of my throat. Finally the tears did fall because the love of my life was seeing me for the person I was…a coward who ran from herself instead of having the bravery to stand for what was right. “They sent Tammy away to a home…or an institution…I don’t know which. I never asked. I was too…too scared.”
I could see Sarah shiver at the story, even as she ran hands up and down my arms to calm me. “How old were you?”
"9..." I knew I still wore a terrified look on my face as Sarah’s expression reflected my own. "...I should have told. I...I was just so scared! I see his face...all painted up...and...I freak..."
“Let’s lie down.” She stood and pulled me to my feet, leading me back to the bedroom. She helped me up and allowed me to lay on top of her. I fell easily into our usual tangle of arms and legs, resting my head on her chest. She absently played with my braids as she comforted me. “I promise to never joke or razz about clowns again. I am glad I know, now. I want to know everything you wish to share...no matter how painful.”
I closed my eyes, listening to her heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of her chest. I felt so free. “I never told anyone that. I never said why I didn’t like clowns…I just tried to make a joke out of it. I thought it would…just go away.” I sighed, still shivering from the memory. “I wonder…I wonder if I should…try to find her. Tell her that…I’m sorry. Get some closure?”
I could feel Sarah tense up underneath me. It was obvious that she thought it was a dumb idea, but per the usual, she caved to me…her love overriding her own instincts. “Maybe we can make that happen. If you want to. We can do anything in the world, together.”
I hugged her tighter, another apology hot on my lips, "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have kept that from you."
Sarah paused again, something was on her mind, but instead she answered, "Nothing to be sorry about. We are here for each other." Though the pain in her neck was biting. "How about we lie here for a bit, shower, and then watch something funny on Netflix?"
"...something funny...yes..."
Sarah put on some comedy that I ignored. I would find my peace in Sarah, not some silly movie. Through her, I had managed to come to terms with a painful memory from my past, and through her I would find a way to a happier future. I’d rest first, then turn my focus to the Halloween Extravaganza on Saturday. Perhaps a day of fun would do me good before I stepped back into the ring and continued my quest to redeem myself in the squared circle.
The Boardwalk Angels would not be pushovers, and I would need every single ounce of skill I could muster to hold my own against the likes of them. If I could do that, then maybe I could do the thing that I set out to do…make my wife TRULY proud of me, climb the ladder to becoming the next Breakout Champion…no matter who or what was put in front of me…
LATER THAT NIGHT...
I open my eyes with start...dreams of people with painted faces still hot in my mind. My hands reach out to find Sarah…my constant companion and reason for living, despite my many protagonists that cite her as the reason for my decline in their eyes. It’s almost comical to me to hear people say this when all they had ever done was tear me down and belittle in accomplishment I ever had, in or out of the ring. He hypocrites clung to their lies in order to make themselves comfortable with failings, I clung to ‘my Selena’ as my reason to strive to be something greater than the sum of my own broken pieces. It had not been an easy start, it had been hard to love someone after betrayal after betrayal. I had feared a relationship and later intimacy with Sarah because I felt that betrayal was right around the corner. Sarah had endured and broke down those walls…in fact, she had broken down everything that remained of the old me. She taught me how to open my heart and love again, despite the risk, because in her I had found everything that I ever wanted, and in me she had found the same thing.
Still, in my heart of hearts I knew that there was more between us that was often unsaid for fear of hurting the feelings of the other. For me, it was the fact that Sarah desired an equal partner, someone as strong and fierce as she was. Someone who was a fighter…someone who was cut from the same fabric as she was, and her father before her. I doubted that a silly girl afraid of men in face paint was the ideal she had in mind when she closed her eyes at night and dreamed of the person she would one day marry.
My failings…my short comings.
Sarah had been there for my prolonged feud with The Boardwalk Angels. She saw my desire to win and she saw my desperation and the fact that I took on all comers. I fought old foes to prove my dominance, I took on challenges from outside of LAW who wanted to come in and shut my mouth, and I battled in out in veritable handicap matches surrounded by my enemies on all sides, just because I wanted to be champion…I wanted to prove to her that I was what she was looking for.
I failed.
It might not have been my fault in the end, but the result was the same. The Angels swooped in and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Just like that, my bid to be something great, something that she wanted in a partner was dashed. Yes, I know she was proud of me, but it was easy to be proud of someone who tried and failed, because it was fleeting. After a few days, it was on to the next challenge, the next opportunity. I wasn’t a champion, I was a loser.
I begged and pleaded to be in the Queen of the Ring. I saw that as my chance to finally prove my mettle and show Sarah that I was her ultimate soulmate. I would battle my way to the end…hell, I might even battle her! The thought of that gave me pause, but only until I saw the gleam in her eyes. She wanted that. She wanted to face me and feel my fire. Who was I to deny her? I shoved those feelings down and won my first match, though talk of underhanded tactics left me with such a sour taste in my mouth that I didn’t bother celebrating or mentioning it. I would focus on the task at hand, winning where it counted.
I failed…not once…but twice.
My first match was nothing, I didn’t win it…it was handed to me. Truth be told, I would have rather lost to Kat than to have moved on to face Gabby with a fucking handout. Facing and beating Gabby would have made up for the disgusting opening match, but again I failed to win…and again I got to stand in front of a ‘proud’ wife who applauded my efforts, as she moved on with her shot at a LAW title secure.
My wife has been in the business for a quarter of the time that I have, and whether she believes it or not, she is on a rocketship to the top. I, on the other hand, am just riding on her coattails, slowing her down every time that she had to stand in front of me and tell me how ‘proud’ she is.
I roll out of bed, my face hot with anger…at myself…at my inability to be what I want, what she wants…what we want. I padded out of the room, wandering the halls of Lacklanland West until I found my way into what could only be described as our ‘Throne Room.’ The actual throne seat from her home had been brought here at my request and it had been the sight of many fun days and nights. Tonight, however, it sat as silent witness to important moments in the history of the Lacklan wrestling legacy.
I walked past the mantle, brushing my hand against the marble head, upon which sat the Owl mask she had been presented with that sat next to the mask her father had once worn. It was a place of extreme honor. I moved back and sat on the throne, my eyes on the Owl mask, then on Sarah’s Unified Global Wrestling Coalition WrestleStock Cup, and finally the empty space that once held our Empire Pro Wrestling Tag Team Titles.
A pang of regret tugged at me as I thought back to how proud I had been to be a Tag Team Champion with her. Capturing that title had made her so happy that I could have retired that very night and called it a career, but the look in my wife’s eyes was like a drug to me. I craved seeing it again. Hindsight being what it was, I should have taken Sarah up on her offer to me in Japan to quit wrestling and basically become her personal ring rat. It would have been less disappointing.
I’d won three hardcore titles, and while some viewed that as an accomplishment, I didn’t. It paled in comparison to Sarah’s WrestleStock Cup win, or even her second place finish in the QOTR. Those accomplishments took skill, not just the ability to hit someone with a 2x4...though, admittedly, it felt good knocking Sam Tolson unconscious and taking the Chaos Title, but I’d never get high marks as an in-ring performer for that. I needed to do something spectacular in order to get Sarah to look at me again the same way she looked at me the night we became Tag Team Champions for belts we never rightly got a chance to put our stamp on.
...another failure...
The Breakout Title was my way to do just that. I had thrown down the gauntlet, because I knew Sarah appreciated such bravado. That was what a fighter did, that is what Sarah would have done. Etsuko has answered the challenge and I had refocused my efforts to get a legitimate title around my waist...to make my wife happy…blissfully so.
Of course, nothing is ever that easy...never that cut and dried. As I made my big play, Sarah’s best friend, Milisandre Crowthorne also made hers; setting her sights on the very same prize. It bothered me that she’d do that, but this was wrestling and eventually things like this were bound to happen. I didn’t let it deter me...I didn’t let it dishearten me. I had a mission...win that title and earn that look from my wife that I had failed to earn at Queen of the Ring...and where I had again failed at UGWC Outlast.
My eyes drifted again to the Owl mask. It was a reminder of my failure in UGWG. If I’d been better, Sarah would not have needed the Court which was now wooing her. I looked at the empty spot where our tag title titles once lay. If I had been better in EPW, perhaps our contracts wouldn’t have been cut short and she’d still be a champion, like she deserved so many times over before.
If I were better, perhaps when she talked about the opportunities the Cool Kids would soon have in LAW, instead of saying that ‘either Milisandre or her wife’ would be Breakout Champion, she would have no doubt in her mind that it would be me. It wasn’t a dig, it was judicious on Sarah’s part, but there was no subtle wink or nod to me which said ‘I know it’s going to be you Beloved.’ It was just hope...maybe she will, probably she won’t. But I had to...I couldn’t fail, not again...I had to find a way to prove it to her, and even myself...I was meant for this, wasn't I?
They needed to know...I needed to tell them, and this couldn't wait until the morning...
LAW 71 is almost here and I find myself in another tag team contest, but this time it’s not with someone I am unfamiliar with inside the ring, it is with someone that I know and trust better than anyone else on the planet. That’s a good thing, seeing as how we are facing the nearly unbeatable combination of the LAW Tag Team Champions. Farrah and Madigan have ruled over the division with an iron fist, and even I couldn’t pry their grip loose from those titles when I was teaming with Kate Steele. That was a bitter disappointment, but it was also very much a learning experience. A lot of people will tell you that I came of age in that match, but I disagree. Yes, I fought my heart out and I did everything I could to win…I even had our hands raised in victory for a few fleeting moments, but in the end the cream rose to the top and my dreams were dashed. I had taken the low road to try to steal away victory, thinking that by merely possession the titles, I would BE a champion…
…that is a lie, and I know that now and my actions shame me because of it…
Losing probably saved me from myself. To have ‘won’ the titles by breaking the rules would have garnered Kate and I another LAW championship, but it wouldn’t have made us champions. I don’t want to be a placeholder anymore. I don’t want to be the person that carries a championship belt from show to show in the hopes that no one exposes the fact that I am no better than a life-sized coatrack upon which a worthy champion would come along and puck it away from me as if I had never held it at all…
…maybe that would be enough for Kate, maybe that would have been enough for me, but no longer…
I don’t want to be a title holder…I want to be a CHAMPION! That has been my mantra since I so spectacularly failed at the Queen of the Ring. That has been my mission since I laid out my challenge to Etsuko for the Breakout Championship. I want what Farrah and Madigan have; the LAW Tag Team Titles? No…at least not yet, but I want the respect and the notoriety of being a champion, being the focus of LAW…and yes, even being a target to those who want what you have.
Truthfully, I have only tasted that a very few times in my career…and sadly, none of those times have come in LAW, the place that birthed me and I call home. I had to leave LAW to win another title in Fucking Awesome Wrestling under the guidance of a General Manager who saw me as someone who could carry her company. In the end, I proved that I could not. In Empire Pro Wrestling, I had the joy of my life…a dream come true…I won my first major title, all on my own with Sarah. We fought through naysayers, attacks with baseball bats, and steel chairs to earn world class titles, and yet…even that proved to be fleeting…
…the only thing worse than winning a title without honor, is not being allowed to defend your honor, win or lose…
So, I have put all of that behind me. I thought that my quest to be something in this business would take me out of LAW, but it seems that all roads just lead me right back to where I started from. Is this my second chance? Third chance at redemption maybe? I don’t know…I lost count, but I haven’t lost focus. At LAW 69, I showed the world that I was through being made out to be the butt of their jokes, I was done with taking short cuts to get to where I belonged. At LAW 70, I proved that point again against a talented newcomer and a brazen upstart, and even though the pinfall was stolen from me, my point was no less clear. I want my fairytale ending…I want to make my wife cry tears of joy for me…I want to cry those same hot fucking tears, and that means continuing my march, even though it takes me up against the very best that LAW has to offer.
I won’t beat a dead horse Angels, Sarah made the point earlier in her V-Log, the two of you are the gold standard in LAW when it comes to champions. No one has worn their titles with more pride than the two of you. No champions have competed consistently on a higher level than the two of you. Lastly, and this is my own observation, if either or both of you were allowed in the Champions Challenge, there would be no doubt in my mind that one of the two of you would walk out with your hand raised. That’s not a knock on the others…but if they think it is, it’s only because they and everyone else around here knows that it’s true…
…but don’t get me wrong…I’m not going to jerk you off all night long, telling you how awesome and unbeatable you are...
I build you up because the two of you have earned the spot that you hold in LAW, and in turn, when Sarah and I defeat you, we will have proven our mettle as well! This isn’t a title match, but make no mistake, as far as Sarah and I are concerned, this is OUR audition to that final goal. Sarah has a guaranteed shot at the Marquee Championship, and she couldn’t have made it plainer to anyone watching that winning the Marquee Title is nothing more than a stop over to her one day winning the LAW Title after beating the Queen of the Ring! As for me? Well, I have championship aspirations of my own and they involve me narrowing the field of Breakout Title competitors to one…ME!
I respect the two of you, more than you can guess, especially after the nastiness of our personal feud. There is no better way to know an enemy than to see them at their most dangerous…and at their most desperate. In this, the three of us have very unique insight into one another. We have seen each other in those times when we have had to dig down deep to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Unfortunately, it has been me more often than not on the losing end of that proposition, but if I am to become the kind wrestler…
…scratch that…
If I am to become to the kind of CHAMPION that I know I can be, then I must find a way to do the thing that very few people can lay claim to in LAW…beat the two of you clean in the middle of the ring. It’s a tall order, but it’s also the flaming road that will scorch my flesh and harden my resolve. The past is behind me and all that lies ahead is opportunity and I am going to seize it, and in so doing I am going to have to defeat the two of you!
No casts…
No steel chairs…
No brass knuckles…
Just the purity of two teams that know their partners better than they know any other person. The two of you have a title to prove your worth, to prove your skill, to show the world that you both perform at a higher level than any other pairing in this company, maybe even this industry. Sarah and I share that same kind of bond. Just like you said, our legend as a tag team has been cemented in battles all over the world…yet, never here as a duo…never in the confines of LAW and never with so much on the line.
The two of you have put down a majority of the division and now you have Angie and Ashley bearing down on you like a runaway train. Sarah and I have our hearts set on winning singles titles…but only Sarah has that opportunity in writing. I am the X-factor…I am the one person in this match who has everything to lose, but I am not walking into the House of Hope Arena in Chicago with a single thought in my mind of anything but walking back out with my hand raised in victory and a clear path to the LAW Breakout Title!
I know that the two of you are built to take on this challenge, but that which is built, is done so to resist the forces that would tear it apart. In Team Kickass…a name that I hate…you two are going to find that irresistible force that will be your undoing in the form of defeat. There will be no shame in it, only a chance for one team to prove to LAW and the rest of the world that they are the best and anyone and everyone who stands in their path will fall in defeat, no matter who they are, no matter where they fight!
Tonight, the four of us will come together and we will show LAW and the fans of this company what it means to give back to the people, and show our appreciation for them and one another. Less than 24 hours after that, the four of us will come together one more time to show LAW and the fans of this company what it means and what it takes to be a champion in this business. I can think of no better challenge than the two of you.
…see you in Chicago…Angels...
Following my personal message to the masses, I had every intention to return to bed and cuddle up with Sarah, to even wake up before her and intimately assault what was mines to make up for the earlier debacle with what should have been a fun adventure with Harley and The Joker, but my thoughts caught up with me and before long I was dosing in the Throne seat, my legs pulled up into my chest as my head rested on my knees…
She slept and dreamed of screeching owls swooping down and carrying Sarah off on their backs. She laughed and giggled as she beckoned for Kenzi to fly with her. Kenzi ran and tried her best to take flight, but every time she ran fast enough to catch up, she was tripped up, by the likes of Kate Steele, Gabby Camacho, and...the final one that sent her tumbling to the ground in a heap, her friend Milisandre Crowthorne.
Kenzi could do nothing but look up as Sarah flew higher and higher...even Roxy Cotton was there now, blowing her kisses as she patted her new Chaos Title. Beside her, Angie Vaughn…looking like a supermodel in her FireStarter Clothing, no doubt from the New York line. Then finally, Milisandre...leaping over her...taking wing as she grasped hold of Sarah in her place, wrapping her arms around her; arms that became long thick tentacles around her wife. They flew higher and higher, finally flying out of sight...leaving her behind...
Her greatest fear, even more-so than that of clowns…to be alone, without her Baby, without the one that had taught her to fly. That was the price of failure…and it tasted bitter, like ashes inside her mouth.
That dream stayed with me…hell, it would probably stay with me forever. It was silly, wasn’t it? Sarah wasn’t leaving me, the other Cool Kids weren’t taking my place? Failure wasn’t going to be the end of everything for me…was it?
I had one job, not to worry about the likes of Maria Salvatore and Milisandre jumping a head of me to take what rightfully belonged to me, bit to walk into that arena on Sunday Night and show everyone that, along with my wife, were the class of any division that you put us in! Sarah had earned her chance at gold, and she had more than proven that she wasn't just a Pay-Per-View Warrior, she was the real deal. I had yet to prove anything at all...but I was just getting started.
Mysterious dreams about friends taking my place were just a distraction, and I had no time for distractions. The Angels were blocking my path, and so the Angels would need to be moved. First I dealt with Farrah and Madigan, and then I could confront whatever challenge came next; friend or foe...
Pre-Party Meeting with The Boardwalk Angels
October 17, 2017
I had been filled with a bit of trepidation over meeting Farrah and Madigan to discuss plans for the Halloween Extravaganza that we had planned the night before LAW 71. It had been some time since I had crossed paths with the tag team champions, and after our long running battle I had expected a bit of tension, but there was none of that at all. In fact, it was quite pleasant. Team Kickass and The Boardwalk Angels, sitting down together talking about Halloween decorations and giggling over all of the whacky contest ideas that our fearsome foursome could come up with. Bobbing for apples that were made up like little pumpkins, a rousing game of pin the tail on the werewolf, and a whole bunch of other made up games that made the four of us giggle our collective asses off. It was almost like we weren’t going to try to beat each other’s brains out on Sunday, but in fact we were going to do just that. All the same, until that moment came, we were like old friends that hadn’t seen one another in a very long while and we were finally getting reacquainted after a long absence from one another.
By the end of the night, I really did feel like we were the best of friends, but I knew that when that bell rung if I thought I was going to get anything that would remotely pass for a hug from the two of them, I had better wake up and smell the coffee. Sarah had said it many times, out of all the champions of LAW, the only ones that were consistent and put their best foot forward every time were these two. Unlike Sarah, who had only faced them once, I had faced them on more than one occasion and I knew full well what to expect on Sunday. The Tag Team Champions were in that spot for a reason. They hadn’t jumped anyone from behind to steal a number one contender’s spot, they hadn’t won their title and gone months without a defense or mention of who they were and when they might fight next. They were exceptional champions…and quite frankly, it made me extraordinarily jealous…and amazingly focused and driven.
This is what I wanted, the chance to be a respected champion, a chance to show all of LAW that I could be more than just the sum of their collective memory of the person I use to be. The girl who was always in the shadow of her overbearing mother, the girl who lost every match her rookie year, the girl who had to cheat to win her first and only title in LAW…and the girl that management wishes would just go away. I would like to know what it feels like just once to be respected for my accomplishments inside the ring and to be held up as an example to people of what they should aspire to. I don’t know if Farrah and Madigan realize how good they have it…I don’t know if they know how badly I crave it. I want what they have and I have already promised myself that I will do everything in my power to get it!
As we finish up our meeting and finalize our plans for Saturday, I can’t help but to look at the two of them and wonder if I were in their shoes, would I still be the person that I am? Had Kate and I won the Tag Team Titles, would I be better…or maybe, would I be worse? Would I have been a proud champion that everyone looked at and pointed to as any example of the way they wanted to carry themselves, or would I have been just plain old rotten cheating ass Kenzi Grey? My money is on the latter, given the way that championship match ended. There wasn’t a stitch of honor in the depths that I had sunk to in order to win. My partner had given up on me…having waited until the very last minute to even show up and try to win the match. We were doomed from the start, and if that first pinfall would have counted, it would have been just like my very first win in the company, still counted as a loss by the man in charge.
…I hated to admit it, but losing that match was the best thing that ever happened to me…
Desperation had made me a laughing stock before, even though I had started to rack up wins. I didn’t care how I got them, as long as I did. I took the Chaos Title and for a brief time, I was LAW…at least I was in my mind. I carried that title with such pride that people thought it was permanently attached to my body. I thought that I could will the masses into accepting me and seeing me the way I saw myself, but that was a grave miscalculation on my part. I wasn’t anything and Lucas Dupree told me to my face that I was as worthless as all of the wins I had amassed. I didn’t want to listen, and part of me still doesn’t want to…but standing across from The Angels and catching a glimpse of how it could have been…how it still might be…it drives me to want what they have even more, more than I have wanted anything else in a very long time.
I pause and stop Farrah and Madigan with a single point of interest…the only one that I had for the entirety of the Halloween Extravaganza…
“Hey…could you guys do me a HUGE favor and no matter what…don’t come tomorrow dressed as clowns…okay?”
The three of them laugh, probably thinking that I am about to make a joke, but my face remains deadly serious. The laughter dies down and Sarah is the first to realize how serious I am when she takes my hand and feels the dampness there. She squeezes my hand, then look at Farrah and Madigan and the point is made without another word. In the end, that was a bit of a low point in our otherwise great meeting, and as per the usual I end up being the fly in the ointment.
Part of me wonders if that will be my role in the match come Sunday night. Will I be the thing that derails us in our very first match as a true tag team in LAW. I hope that’s not the case…I hope that I overcome all the horrible thoughts swirling around inside my head and I maintain the momentum I built after failing at Queen of the Ring. I need to do better…I have to do better. If I want what The Angels have, I have to prove it inside the ring…
LACKLANLAND WEST
West Hollywood, California
The following day, Sarah pressed me over the whole ‘clown’ thing, but I wasn't interested in talking about it. I wanted to keep my thoughts on what mattered, facing The Angels on Sunday and working to correct the mistakes I made in the past. My dream from the night before was still a bother to me. The addition of clown talk, was a distraction that I just didn’t need right now. Bottom line, I had my reasons for my Coulrophobia, or rather, my fear of clowns. It was my issue, and I didn’t want to talk about it…now or ever. My focus was on the ring, and I kept my attention total. Saturday’s festivities were for the fans, but Sunday night would be for me.
…little did I know, my wife was not going to be as quick to let things go as I had hoped…
Unbeknownst to Kenzi at the time, Sarah was in the bedroom smiling at herself in the mirror of their West Hollywood apartment. She finished pulling on the right side of her head, getting the pigtails of her platinum hair just right. She stood back to examine herself in the full-length mirror, feeling as sexy as she ever had. The Harley Quinn costume she had commissioned fit better than she could have imagined; the top was so tight that her breasts were nearly spilling out, her abs looked like rocks where her midriff showed, and the shorts were so small that half of her ass was out for the world to see. Knee high ‘fuck me’ boots completed the ensemble and she couldn't help but feel a mixture of lust and worry. This ‘therapy’ session for Kenzi's fear of clowns was either going to lead to so many orgasms that the married woman could sail out of the apartment on the ship she had dubbed The Red Queen...or it would lead to Kenzi running away, screaming in fright. Sarah took a deep breath, ninjaing out of the room and to the side of the couch, where her wife was hard at work watching footage of her last match against the Boardwalk Angels. Sarah slowly let out harsh breath and speaks in the Brooklyn accent she had been working on.
"Whatcha doin', Mrs. G-L?"
I turned and looked at Sarah and the remote control slipped out of my hand and clattered across the floor. Rather than look after it, my eyes were locked on the sight of her. It gave me a start at first, but as I blinked my eyes I realized that it wasn’t a clown, but my lovely wife. The worry on Sarah's face deepened for a moment as she thought that I might flee, but instead I smiled, the realization of the game setting in on me. "The Joker's girlfriend..." Then my smile faltered a bit. I took an uneasy breath, then stalked over to her and put my arms around her. Sarah could tell that the game had not yet begun. "...he's a clown..." I put my forehead against hers, still trembling a bit. "...a fucking clown..."
I had been deep into analyzing match strategies in the hopes of finding a hole in the game of The Boardwalk Angels. I wanted to be prepared this time when I faced them since I had a partner that I could count on this time around, but…this distraction, wasn’t entirely unwelcome…just ill advised. Sarah touched the side of my face, the concern that was etched in hers was apparent. “We don’t have to do this Beloved, I can see that you’re bothered. I-I just thought that this might…help.” She turned to leave, “I’ll just take it off and we…”
I grabbed her by her hand, stopping her. My heart was racing in my chest, all the same as I did. I pulled her back, pleased that she would take the time to explore my phobia, though I wasn’t certain that was what I really wanted. Looking her up and down, dressed as she was, made it far easier. I took a deep breath. "...would you...help me...with my makeup...?" Even as the words tumble out of my mouth, I want to immediately take them back. It’s only my love for her that allows me to move forward, knowing full well why this is probably a terrible idea.
Sarah squeezed my hand and pulled me through the room, into our bedroom, sitting me down on one of the stools in front of our ‘beauty stations’ for lack of a better name. Sarah carefully whispered as she had us look in the mirror together and played with my braids. "...do you want to talk about it?"
I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head as I pushed down those conflicting emotions. If I could get through this, then there would be nothing to discuss. I could get back to the business of preparing for our match on Sunday night…there would be no fuss and I wouldn’t have to relive anything from my past…a past that still haunted and bothered me to this day. "...no...just help me first...maybe...afterwards..."
Sarah squeezed my shoulder as she went to her massive makeup collection and returned with a bit of face cream and red lipstick that matched her eyes. I could tell that she was still concerned, she could see how tense I was. She could see that I was putting on a brave front, but maybe she respected that and knew that I would find my own way pass this, together…as a team inside the ring and in life. Sarah knelt down in front of me as she first applied a bit of the white cream to my face, not a lot, but enough to produce the desired effect. Next, she carefully applied the lipstick to my lips, including little lines to mimic the smile scars. When she was done, she cocked her head to the side and nodded, "That will do," she whispered, closing the lipstick and setting it down. "Article Three...you can tap out at any time, no questions asked."
She stood back, allowing me some breathing room as she slid back into character, placing her hands on her hips, making her curves jut out. "You never answered me, Mrs. G-L," she says in her affected Brooklyn voice. "Whatcha doin'?"
I glanced at myself in the mirror then turned away quickly. I could feel a chill at the base of my spine as the white face and the curious red smile tugged a memory that I didn’t want rushing back up to meet me. Certainly not now when I had made so many positive stride in my life. Somethings were better off buried down deep…never to be brought back to the surface. I took a breath, collecting myself, closing my eyes tightly...so tightly that it was painful. I had no desire to see myself that way, I had no desire to see anyone that way. When I finally opened then, Sarah could she a marked change in my demeanor...playful, but malevolent as I accessed that part of myself that allowed me to become someone else in front of the camera. She might have assumed that I was just playing a role, but she would have been wrong…I was falling back into a memory I had buried so deeply that I thought I might never have to face it again…but that wasn’t the case at all.
My voice changed in bother timbre and force as I allowed a darker side of my personality to take control. "Harley..." my dark eyes roamed over and fell on her, taking in her many curves...my hands rubbing together. "...I was contemplating how much I enjoy bringing a smile to that lovely face of yours...and...how much I enjoy wiping it away and making you cry..." I stood up abruptly, acting as much on raw instinct as much as I was just playing a part. "Why couldn't the chicken cross the road?" I waited a beat. "Because it was dead!" I laughed...or actually cackled as I watched her reaction.
Sarah paused, looking at me and taking in the change. I wasn’t sure what she thought of it, but she gave me a heated chuckle after a fashion. "I sure do love your jokes, Mrs. G-L." She ran a hand over my braids as she lightly grazed her own chest with the other. "They get me all worked up. See?" She pinched herself through her top. "I love them almost as much as when you get rough with me." She gave an exaggerated wink. "Almost."
I grinned, but I could feel that it was overly toothy and malevolent. I grabbed a handful of her nearly exposed breast and squeezed it roughly. "Harley...what kind of bees make milk?" I waited a bit and gave her a hard pinch. "Boobies!" Again came that malevolent laugh. This time I shoved my hand into the front of her tight shorts. "Don't mind me, the President said it’s okay...I'm famous!"
Sarah gave a giggle at the joke and even gave in to the intimate violation. She loved these kinds of games, but this one was different…she just didn’t know it yet. "Oh, Mrs. G-L!" She leans forward as the sheer fun of the scenario was exciting her. He hands squeeze and tug at my braids as she can't help but groan. "If...you're not busy...I wouldn't mind...if you made me cry…"
It was like I was watching a movie, it wasn’t me…and yet it was. I grabbed her roughly by her face, my eyes were dark and hard. "Cry? You'll fucking cry alright...you'll fucking cry!" I grabbed her roughly, shoving her back against the wall, then throwing her down roughly. I was on her in an instant, hands all over, rough and hard. I think that it was a game…at first, but I was lost in a memory that was dark and terrible. Sarah still thought we were playing, at least for a few more moments, but my arm around her throat made it clear that the game was over.
Sarah was use to our rough games, she craved them at times when she needed a particular kind of release…but this was not that kind of game. I choked her with one arm as my other hand roughly ripped at her desperately squirming body. She gasped for air, even as she tried to squirm away. "BE STILL...it will hurt less." My arm tightened around her neck, starving her of air as I spoke…I wasn’t even sure if it was even to Sarah anymore. "Are you crying yet?! I WANT TO HEAR YOU CRY!!!"
Sarah was a strong woman, certainly my physical superior, but I had the dominant position and she had no leverage to upend me. She gasped for air and fought against me, but I heard and felt none of it. I wasn’t there in the room with her anymore…I was elsewhere, reliving a memory that had shattered my younger self and planted the seeds of this ridiculous phobia.
"CRY!!! CRY!!! CRY YOU BLACK FUCKING BITCH!!! YOU CRY!!!" I felt her begging for it to end, crying out for it to stop...but I pushed on, lost inside a memory of my own, anger and searing rage driving me. Over and over I heard the voice as I spoke the words, "CRY YOU BLACK BITCH! FUCKING CRY!!" It wasn't until I felt the tap…our precious Article 3 that she had mentioned earlier, which finally snapped me out of the horrific memory. It was the touch that the two of us shared that did it.
I withdrew from Sarah quickly. My mouth agape and eyes wide in horror over what I had just done. I stood up and backed away, mumbling, over and over "...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." I turned and saw my face in the mirror, painted and smudged...but still it filled me with fright. I bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door as I went to the sink and started violently scrubbing my face to get the clown makeup off. This was what I was afraid of, what I had warned Farrah, Madigan, and even my sweet Sarah about. I rubbed so hard that my face was streaked red. I crumbled to the floor, scooting against the wall as I wondered what I'd done…how I’d lost control.
In the next room, Sarah could feel the tears streaming down her face. She didn't know when she started crying, but she knew that they were hot and coming fast. She got to her feet and made her way over to the door and knocked weakly. "...baby?"
As I heard the knock at the door and got to my feet, wiping my face. I felt like an idiot…I knew full well that this was a game that I shouldn’t have been playing, yet I let my desire to please my wife override common sense. I opened the door and immediately fell into Sarah's arms, hugging and kissing her, as words of apology flooded from my mouth. "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry..." I didn't cry, but I was shaken to my very core.
Sarah pulled me down to the floor so that we were facing one another, then she pulled me into a hug. It was one that was sorely needed. It took Sarah a moment to compose herself, but she is able to get the tears to stop. "...can we talk?"
I took a deep breath, trembling a bit with the old memory hanging over my head like a dark cloud. I looked at Sarah, finally noticing that I wasn’t the only one shaken by the experience. I took Sarah’s hand inside my own as I apologized again, “Baby…I’m sorry…I’m sooooo sorry!”
Sarah fought to keep her hand from shaking in mine. She licked her lips as she held me in her gaze, trying to focus. "...what was that?"
I didn’t want to think about it…I had warned them that I didn’t want to be reminded of this, but…it was too late now. I took a shuddering breath, my entire body shaking as I try to calm myself. I hadn’t thought about this in years, though the memory of it all still ran hot whenever I was reminded of that time…as I was today. I should have told her this months ago, if to do nothing but unburden my soul, but now that failing was moot. I started to tell my story, my hands working themselves into a fist that was knotted at my side.
“Bobby Robinson…a boy who lived near me growing up. I didn’t know him well…he was older…much older…he was special.” I shook her head, knowing that I didn’t need to be politically correct with Sarah, but I was anyway. “I…I was friends with his cousin, Tammy…she visited often and we were very close…real close.” I closed my eyes, picturing her face from all those many years ago. “Tammy use to cry and tell me about Bobby always hitting her…doing things to her. I-I didn’t know what she meant back then…not like I know now. But Bobby would dress up like a clown and take advantage of Tammy. She would cry and try to tell her aunt, but she never listened…just told her not to mind him because he wasn’t right in the head.” I squeezed Sarah’s hand as the story took another turn, a much darker one…if that was even possible.
I gathered myself, “One day, Tammy came to the house in tears…she was hurt…bad. My gram wasn’t home…then Bobby came…he was dressed up and calling for Tammy. Trying to apologize, but we told him we were calling the police…” I paused, the memory becoming more vivid in my mind now, “…we weren’t…we should have.” I lowered my head and closed my eyes. “Bobby was a big kid and he came in through a side window. We ran…we ran and we screamed. We tried to hide. I ran into my gram’s bedroom and Tammy was right there…and then…she wasn’t…” I swallowed, and I could literally feel the color draining from my cheeks. “I heard him outside the door with her…hurting her…doing…things…screaming at me to come out. I was…I was crying so hard. He kept screaming…CRY BITCH! CRY YOU BLACK BITCH!” I shrugged as I wrapped my arms around myself, doing what I could to comfort myself enough to get through the story. “Maybe he was talking to Tammy…I don’t know…I just don’t know. I just…I just remember his face…all painted up…like a clown.” I lowered my face into my hands and just sat there.
Sarah's tears fell fresh again as she listened to my story. She and I shared our lives together, but each held secrets, or stories that we held close to ourselves. This was just the latest example. "I had no idea." Sarah looked down at what remained of her Harley Quinn costume. "I'm so sorry. I didn't-" She had to gulp to keep from sobbing. "Please forgive me."
I understood that she felt she had played a part in the pain I now felt, but that was really not the case at all. The pain was always there, buried and festering. She had helped to bring it to the surface and maybe now it could heal. “It’s not your fault…you didn’t know, and I didn’t talk about it…ever. I didn’t tell…I didn’t tell…never…even when Tammy told the police. They asked me…and…I still didn’t tell. I never ever told anyone!” I swallowed down my shame and it tasted like bile, hot and nasty in the back of my throat. Finally the tears did fall because the love of my life was seeing me for the person I was…a coward who ran from herself instead of having the bravery to stand for what was right. “They sent Tammy away to a home…or an institution…I don’t know which. I never asked. I was too…too scared.”
I could see Sarah shiver at the story, even as she ran hands up and down my arms to calm me. “How old were you?”
"9..." I knew I still wore a terrified look on my face as Sarah’s expression reflected my own. "...I should have told. I...I was just so scared! I see his face...all painted up...and...I freak..."
“Let’s lie down.” She stood and pulled me to my feet, leading me back to the bedroom. She helped me up and allowed me to lay on top of her. I fell easily into our usual tangle of arms and legs, resting my head on her chest. She absently played with my braids as she comforted me. “I promise to never joke or razz about clowns again. I am glad I know, now. I want to know everything you wish to share...no matter how painful.”
I closed my eyes, listening to her heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of her chest. I felt so free. “I never told anyone that. I never said why I didn’t like clowns…I just tried to make a joke out of it. I thought it would…just go away.” I sighed, still shivering from the memory. “I wonder…I wonder if I should…try to find her. Tell her that…I’m sorry. Get some closure?”
I could feel Sarah tense up underneath me. It was obvious that she thought it was a dumb idea, but per the usual, she caved to me…her love overriding her own instincts. “Maybe we can make that happen. If you want to. We can do anything in the world, together.”
I hugged her tighter, another apology hot on my lips, "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have kept that from you."
Sarah paused again, something was on her mind, but instead she answered, "Nothing to be sorry about. We are here for each other." Though the pain in her neck was biting. "How about we lie here for a bit, shower, and then watch something funny on Netflix?"
"...something funny...yes..."
Sarah put on some comedy that I ignored. I would find my peace in Sarah, not some silly movie. Through her, I had managed to come to terms with a painful memory from my past, and through her I would find a way to a happier future. I’d rest first, then turn my focus to the Halloween Extravaganza on Saturday. Perhaps a day of fun would do me good before I stepped back into the ring and continued my quest to redeem myself in the squared circle.
The Boardwalk Angels would not be pushovers, and I would need every single ounce of skill I could muster to hold my own against the likes of them. If I could do that, then maybe I could do the thing that I set out to do…make my wife TRULY proud of me, climb the ladder to becoming the next Breakout Champion…no matter who or what was put in front of me…
LATER THAT NIGHT...
I open my eyes with start...dreams of people with painted faces still hot in my mind. My hands reach out to find Sarah…my constant companion and reason for living, despite my many protagonists that cite her as the reason for my decline in their eyes. It’s almost comical to me to hear people say this when all they had ever done was tear me down and belittle in accomplishment I ever had, in or out of the ring. He hypocrites clung to their lies in order to make themselves comfortable with failings, I clung to ‘my Selena’ as my reason to strive to be something greater than the sum of my own broken pieces. It had not been an easy start, it had been hard to love someone after betrayal after betrayal. I had feared a relationship and later intimacy with Sarah because I felt that betrayal was right around the corner. Sarah had endured and broke down those walls…in fact, she had broken down everything that remained of the old me. She taught me how to open my heart and love again, despite the risk, because in her I had found everything that I ever wanted, and in me she had found the same thing.
Still, in my heart of hearts I knew that there was more between us that was often unsaid for fear of hurting the feelings of the other. For me, it was the fact that Sarah desired an equal partner, someone as strong and fierce as she was. Someone who was a fighter…someone who was cut from the same fabric as she was, and her father before her. I doubted that a silly girl afraid of men in face paint was the ideal she had in mind when she closed her eyes at night and dreamed of the person she would one day marry.
My failings…my short comings.
Sarah had been there for my prolonged feud with The Boardwalk Angels. She saw my desire to win and she saw my desperation and the fact that I took on all comers. I fought old foes to prove my dominance, I took on challenges from outside of LAW who wanted to come in and shut my mouth, and I battled in out in veritable handicap matches surrounded by my enemies on all sides, just because I wanted to be champion…I wanted to prove to her that I was what she was looking for.
I failed.
It might not have been my fault in the end, but the result was the same. The Angels swooped in and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Just like that, my bid to be something great, something that she wanted in a partner was dashed. Yes, I know she was proud of me, but it was easy to be proud of someone who tried and failed, because it was fleeting. After a few days, it was on to the next challenge, the next opportunity. I wasn’t a champion, I was a loser.
I begged and pleaded to be in the Queen of the Ring. I saw that as my chance to finally prove my mettle and show Sarah that I was her ultimate soulmate. I would battle my way to the end…hell, I might even battle her! The thought of that gave me pause, but only until I saw the gleam in her eyes. She wanted that. She wanted to face me and feel my fire. Who was I to deny her? I shoved those feelings down and won my first match, though talk of underhanded tactics left me with such a sour taste in my mouth that I didn’t bother celebrating or mentioning it. I would focus on the task at hand, winning where it counted.
I failed…not once…but twice.
My first match was nothing, I didn’t win it…it was handed to me. Truth be told, I would have rather lost to Kat than to have moved on to face Gabby with a fucking handout. Facing and beating Gabby would have made up for the disgusting opening match, but again I failed to win…and again I got to stand in front of a ‘proud’ wife who applauded my efforts, as she moved on with her shot at a LAW title secure.
My wife has been in the business for a quarter of the time that I have, and whether she believes it or not, she is on a rocketship to the top. I, on the other hand, am just riding on her coattails, slowing her down every time that she had to stand in front of me and tell me how ‘proud’ she is.
I roll out of bed, my face hot with anger…at myself…at my inability to be what I want, what she wants…what we want. I padded out of the room, wandering the halls of Lacklanland West until I found my way into what could only be described as our ‘Throne Room.’ The actual throne seat from her home had been brought here at my request and it had been the sight of many fun days and nights. Tonight, however, it sat as silent witness to important moments in the history of the Lacklan wrestling legacy.
I walked past the mantle, brushing my hand against the marble head, upon which sat the Owl mask she had been presented with that sat next to the mask her father had once worn. It was a place of extreme honor. I moved back and sat on the throne, my eyes on the Owl mask, then on Sarah’s Unified Global Wrestling Coalition WrestleStock Cup, and finally the empty space that once held our Empire Pro Wrestling Tag Team Titles.
A pang of regret tugged at me as I thought back to how proud I had been to be a Tag Team Champion with her. Capturing that title had made her so happy that I could have retired that very night and called it a career, but the look in my wife’s eyes was like a drug to me. I craved seeing it again. Hindsight being what it was, I should have taken Sarah up on her offer to me in Japan to quit wrestling and basically become her personal ring rat. It would have been less disappointing.
I’d won three hardcore titles, and while some viewed that as an accomplishment, I didn’t. It paled in comparison to Sarah’s WrestleStock Cup win, or even her second place finish in the QOTR. Those accomplishments took skill, not just the ability to hit someone with a 2x4...though, admittedly, it felt good knocking Sam Tolson unconscious and taking the Chaos Title, but I’d never get high marks as an in-ring performer for that. I needed to do something spectacular in order to get Sarah to look at me again the same way she looked at me the night we became Tag Team Champions for belts we never rightly got a chance to put our stamp on.
...another failure...
The Breakout Title was my way to do just that. I had thrown down the gauntlet, because I knew Sarah appreciated such bravado. That was what a fighter did, that is what Sarah would have done. Etsuko has answered the challenge and I had refocused my efforts to get a legitimate title around my waist...to make my wife happy…blissfully so.
Of course, nothing is ever that easy...never that cut and dried. As I made my big play, Sarah’s best friend, Milisandre Crowthorne also made hers; setting her sights on the very same prize. It bothered me that she’d do that, but this was wrestling and eventually things like this were bound to happen. I didn’t let it deter me...I didn’t let it dishearten me. I had a mission...win that title and earn that look from my wife that I had failed to earn at Queen of the Ring...and where I had again failed at UGWC Outlast.
My eyes drifted again to the Owl mask. It was a reminder of my failure in UGWG. If I’d been better, Sarah would not have needed the Court which was now wooing her. I looked at the empty spot where our tag title titles once lay. If I had been better in EPW, perhaps our contracts wouldn’t have been cut short and she’d still be a champion, like she deserved so many times over before.
If I were better, perhaps when she talked about the opportunities the Cool Kids would soon have in LAW, instead of saying that ‘either Milisandre or her wife’ would be Breakout Champion, she would have no doubt in her mind that it would be me. It wasn’t a dig, it was judicious on Sarah’s part, but there was no subtle wink or nod to me which said ‘I know it’s going to be you Beloved.’ It was just hope...maybe she will, probably she won’t. But I had to...I couldn’t fail, not again...I had to find a way to prove it to her, and even myself...I was meant for this, wasn't I?
They needed to know...I needed to tell them, and this couldn't wait until the morning...
LAW 71 is almost here and I find myself in another tag team contest, but this time it’s not with someone I am unfamiliar with inside the ring, it is with someone that I know and trust better than anyone else on the planet. That’s a good thing, seeing as how we are facing the nearly unbeatable combination of the LAW Tag Team Champions. Farrah and Madigan have ruled over the division with an iron fist, and even I couldn’t pry their grip loose from those titles when I was teaming with Kate Steele. That was a bitter disappointment, but it was also very much a learning experience. A lot of people will tell you that I came of age in that match, but I disagree. Yes, I fought my heart out and I did everything I could to win…I even had our hands raised in victory for a few fleeting moments, but in the end the cream rose to the top and my dreams were dashed. I had taken the low road to try to steal away victory, thinking that by merely possession the titles, I would BE a champion…
…that is a lie, and I know that now and my actions shame me because of it…
Losing probably saved me from myself. To have ‘won’ the titles by breaking the rules would have garnered Kate and I another LAW championship, but it wouldn’t have made us champions. I don’t want to be a placeholder anymore. I don’t want to be the person that carries a championship belt from show to show in the hopes that no one exposes the fact that I am no better than a life-sized coatrack upon which a worthy champion would come along and puck it away from me as if I had never held it at all…
…maybe that would be enough for Kate, maybe that would have been enough for me, but no longer…
I don’t want to be a title holder…I want to be a CHAMPION! That has been my mantra since I so spectacularly failed at the Queen of the Ring. That has been my mission since I laid out my challenge to Etsuko for the Breakout Championship. I want what Farrah and Madigan have; the LAW Tag Team Titles? No…at least not yet, but I want the respect and the notoriety of being a champion, being the focus of LAW…and yes, even being a target to those who want what you have.
Truthfully, I have only tasted that a very few times in my career…and sadly, none of those times have come in LAW, the place that birthed me and I call home. I had to leave LAW to win another title in Fucking Awesome Wrestling under the guidance of a General Manager who saw me as someone who could carry her company. In the end, I proved that I could not. In Empire Pro Wrestling, I had the joy of my life…a dream come true…I won my first major title, all on my own with Sarah. We fought through naysayers, attacks with baseball bats, and steel chairs to earn world class titles, and yet…even that proved to be fleeting…
…the only thing worse than winning a title without honor, is not being allowed to defend your honor, win or lose…
So, I have put all of that behind me. I thought that my quest to be something in this business would take me out of LAW, but it seems that all roads just lead me right back to where I started from. Is this my second chance? Third chance at redemption maybe? I don’t know…I lost count, but I haven’t lost focus. At LAW 69, I showed the world that I was through being made out to be the butt of their jokes, I was done with taking short cuts to get to where I belonged. At LAW 70, I proved that point again against a talented newcomer and a brazen upstart, and even though the pinfall was stolen from me, my point was no less clear. I want my fairytale ending…I want to make my wife cry tears of joy for me…I want to cry those same hot fucking tears, and that means continuing my march, even though it takes me up against the very best that LAW has to offer.
I won’t beat a dead horse Angels, Sarah made the point earlier in her V-Log, the two of you are the gold standard in LAW when it comes to champions. No one has worn their titles with more pride than the two of you. No champions have competed consistently on a higher level than the two of you. Lastly, and this is my own observation, if either or both of you were allowed in the Champions Challenge, there would be no doubt in my mind that one of the two of you would walk out with your hand raised. That’s not a knock on the others…but if they think it is, it’s only because they and everyone else around here knows that it’s true…
…but don’t get me wrong…I’m not going to jerk you off all night long, telling you how awesome and unbeatable you are...
I build you up because the two of you have earned the spot that you hold in LAW, and in turn, when Sarah and I defeat you, we will have proven our mettle as well! This isn’t a title match, but make no mistake, as far as Sarah and I are concerned, this is OUR audition to that final goal. Sarah has a guaranteed shot at the Marquee Championship, and she couldn’t have made it plainer to anyone watching that winning the Marquee Title is nothing more than a stop over to her one day winning the LAW Title after beating the Queen of the Ring! As for me? Well, I have championship aspirations of my own and they involve me narrowing the field of Breakout Title competitors to one…ME!
I respect the two of you, more than you can guess, especially after the nastiness of our personal feud. There is no better way to know an enemy than to see them at their most dangerous…and at their most desperate. In this, the three of us have very unique insight into one another. We have seen each other in those times when we have had to dig down deep to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Unfortunately, it has been me more often than not on the losing end of that proposition, but if I am to become the kind wrestler…
…scratch that…
If I am to become to the kind of CHAMPION that I know I can be, then I must find a way to do the thing that very few people can lay claim to in LAW…beat the two of you clean in the middle of the ring. It’s a tall order, but it’s also the flaming road that will scorch my flesh and harden my resolve. The past is behind me and all that lies ahead is opportunity and I am going to seize it, and in so doing I am going to have to defeat the two of you!
No casts…
No steel chairs…
No brass knuckles…
Just the purity of two teams that know their partners better than they know any other person. The two of you have a title to prove your worth, to prove your skill, to show the world that you both perform at a higher level than any other pairing in this company, maybe even this industry. Sarah and I share that same kind of bond. Just like you said, our legend as a tag team has been cemented in battles all over the world…yet, never here as a duo…never in the confines of LAW and never with so much on the line.
The two of you have put down a majority of the division and now you have Angie and Ashley bearing down on you like a runaway train. Sarah and I have our hearts set on winning singles titles…but only Sarah has that opportunity in writing. I am the X-factor…I am the one person in this match who has everything to lose, but I am not walking into the House of Hope Arena in Chicago with a single thought in my mind of anything but walking back out with my hand raised in victory and a clear path to the LAW Breakout Title!
I know that the two of you are built to take on this challenge, but that which is built, is done so to resist the forces that would tear it apart. In Team Kickass…a name that I hate…you two are going to find that irresistible force that will be your undoing in the form of defeat. There will be no shame in it, only a chance for one team to prove to LAW and the rest of the world that they are the best and anyone and everyone who stands in their path will fall in defeat, no matter who they are, no matter where they fight!
Tonight, the four of us will come together and we will show LAW and the fans of this company what it means to give back to the people, and show our appreciation for them and one another. Less than 24 hours after that, the four of us will come together one more time to show LAW and the fans of this company what it means and what it takes to be a champion in this business. I can think of no better challenge than the two of you.
…see you in Chicago…Angels...
Following my personal message to the masses, I had every intention to return to bed and cuddle up with Sarah, to even wake up before her and intimately assault what was mines to make up for the earlier debacle with what should have been a fun adventure with Harley and The Joker, but my thoughts caught up with me and before long I was dosing in the Throne seat, my legs pulled up into my chest as my head rested on my knees…
She slept and dreamed of screeching owls swooping down and carrying Sarah off on their backs. She laughed and giggled as she beckoned for Kenzi to fly with her. Kenzi ran and tried her best to take flight, but every time she ran fast enough to catch up, she was tripped up, by the likes of Kate Steele, Gabby Camacho, and...the final one that sent her tumbling to the ground in a heap, her friend Milisandre Crowthorne.
Kenzi could do nothing but look up as Sarah flew higher and higher...even Roxy Cotton was there now, blowing her kisses as she patted her new Chaos Title. Beside her, Angie Vaughn…looking like a supermodel in her FireStarter Clothing, no doubt from the New York line. Then finally, Milisandre...leaping over her...taking wing as she grasped hold of Sarah in her place, wrapping her arms around her; arms that became long thick tentacles around her wife. They flew higher and higher, finally flying out of sight...leaving her behind...
Her greatest fear, even more-so than that of clowns…to be alone, without her Baby, without the one that had taught her to fly. That was the price of failure…and it tasted bitter, like ashes inside her mouth.
That dream stayed with me…hell, it would probably stay with me forever. It was silly, wasn’t it? Sarah wasn’t leaving me, the other Cool Kids weren’t taking my place? Failure wasn’t going to be the end of everything for me…was it?
I had one job, not to worry about the likes of Maria Salvatore and Milisandre jumping a head of me to take what rightfully belonged to me, bit to walk into that arena on Sunday Night and show everyone that, along with my wife, were the class of any division that you put us in! Sarah had earned her chance at gold, and she had more than proven that she wasn't just a Pay-Per-View Warrior, she was the real deal. I had yet to prove anything at all...but I was just getting started.
Mysterious dreams about friends taking my place were just a distraction, and I had no time for distractions. The Angels were blocking my path, and so the Angels would need to be moved. First I dealt with Farrah and Madigan, and then I could confront whatever challenge came next; friend or foe...