CXII
Oct 1, 2018 20:26:37 GMT -5
Post by The Mason on Oct 1, 2018 20:26:37 GMT -5
July 14, 2018
Seattle
SMACK!
The sound echoed through the empty corridors. Something about it… without the buzz of a crowd… without the background audio of an audience… just sounded grittier. Felt colder.
The show had been over for upwards of a half hour. The PA system had abandoned anything popular and had devolved back into the satellite radio’s slow jams-- particularly “Cool Night” by Paul Davis at this point. That stupid song would always be stuck in Ashlyn’s head as she glared up at her tag team partner. She didn’t know why tears were welling up in her eyes. She felt dumb. But she felt like it somehow made sense. Her palm stung. This stupid song was still going. But she glared up at Logan, breathing heavily, waiting for-- something. An explanation. An apology. Something.
Logan slowly turned to face Ashlyn again, his cheek turning red from the stinging blow. His expression wasn’t one of anger though. He still wore that maddening detached expression on his face from the team meeting almost two hours ago when he’d walked out. The one where he hadn’t even acknowledged his own partner.
“Well… I deserved that.”
A single, breathless, humorless laugh. Ashlyn shook her head, looking at him incredulously. Her mouth hung open, ready to form some words that her mind wasn’t finished coming up with yet. She closed it. Closed her eyes. Took a small breath-- but it didn’t help. She still felt her jaw shaking a bit. She still felt the anger.
“You made us look like fucking idiots,” Ash said, not even able to meet his gaze anymore. “Like-- I was… I was with you when you said you didn’t wanna lead these guys. Okay? I got that. I agreed.” She took a deep breath, opening her eyes, looking toward the ground. “But that? That was bullshit.”
Logan regarded her quietly for a few moments. “Yes. That was the idea.”
Ashlyn looked at him, her face cycling through a variety of emotions-- before settling on laughter. She ran a hand over her tired face, back through her hair, laughing to herself for a moment before sighing, looking up at Logan with bloodshot eyes and a bitter smile.
“That was the idea.” Another scoff. Another breathless, empty laugh, and the Tag Team Champion shook her head. “Are you serious? Fuck you, Logan.”
She turned, looking toward her packed bags that sat by the doorway of the dressing room. With another deep breath, Ash walked over to them, pausing, leaning forward with a hand against the wall.
“I just…”
She stopped, pushing off of the wall, pivoting, her shoe squeaking on the tile of the floor as she turned to Logan.
“I don’t get it. You give me shit, you give James shit for not being gung-ho about this Team Flashpoint thing… and then you pull the most selfish fucking shit I have ever seen. How far up your ass is your head right now?” She placed her hands to her temples, groaning. “I’m just-- for a SECOND-- trying to think of where your head’s at. I’m just trying to fucking get it, but I can’t. I don’t. Because it’s stupid. You’re trying to prove-- I don’t know.” She laughed again, clearly bitter, throwing her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but if the end goal is to fuck us then congratufuckinglations, Logan, because we’re basically there right now.”
She shook her head, sniffing-- clearly the aftereffects of minutes of stupid, pointless crying, if you asked her. Ashlyn turned, bending down to pick her bag up, throwing the strap over her shoulder as she moved toward the door.
“You’re right about all of it.” He said the words just before Ashlyn got to the door. “I’m not going to justify any of it, cause I can’t now.”
Ashlyn paused. She stayed, frozen there for a few moments… before shaking her head softly and shrugging the bags up onto her back, making her way out of the dressing room, leaving Logan behind.
July 16, 2018
Atlanta
“What a dick, right?”
The eighteen-year-old Aron Polczynik shook his head, a knowing “I told you so”-esque smirk on his face as he stirred sugar into the tea that sat before him at the small, tattered table that sat in the kitchen, hidden behind the walls of the cafe. He was one of the three souls left in the small downtown Atlanta cafe that Ashlyn De Luca co-owned along with her roommate and best friend, Karen Reynolds.
“Karen,” Aron continued, looking toward the other co-owner with his hands raised. “Did I, or did I not tell Ash that this dude was a dick? Did I not tell Cass this? Did I not tell all of you?” He looked toward Karen with raised brows, a look on his face that silently demanded validation.
With a small sigh, the redhead pushed a lock of hair out of her face and glanced over toward Ashlyn, who’d been quiet for the better part of the night, standing by the sink, rag in hand as she washed each item before loading them into the dishwasher. Karen rolled her eyes at Aron and swatted at the back of his head as she moved past. “Not the time.”
“Not the time,” Aron mocked in a high-pitched, questionable-at-best American accent.
“Is that supposed to be me?” Karen muttered, turning on her heel to look back at Aron as she stood next to Ashlyn at the sink.
Aron smirked. “I mean…”
“Why are you still here, Aron?” Ashlyn asked, tiredly looking over toward him from across the cafe. “Don’t you have some Reddit threads to spam or some shit?”
“Oh.” Aron raised his phone. “I can do that from anywhere, bro.”
Ashlyn blinked. “Go home.”
Aron scoffed, feigning offense as he pushed his chair out from the table, giving Karen and Ashlyn a smirk while he rose to his feet. “You’re lucky I’ve gotta go feed the cats anyway. I’m taking the mug with me too. You’ll get it back when you get it back.”
“Go,” Karen repeated, waving Aron off.
“Mmhm.” Aron used his hip to slide the stool into place, moving past the pair with the mug to his lips. “Had enough time at Poor Man’s Central Perk anyway.” He raised the mug as he reached the doorway of the kitchen, leading into the dining room of the cafe. “And Ashlyn, if you end up getting any free time this week, my YouTube channel would probably get a shit ton of hits if you popped your head in for another one of those movie revie--”
Ashlyn turned, launching the wet rag toward Aron’s head, but the kid closed the door in the knick of time. A muffled cry came in from the outside.
“...I assume that means you’ll consider!”
The girls waited silently-- Karen with a tiny smirk on her face-- as the eighteen-year-old departed. She
July 19, 2018
Whitchurch-Stouffville, northeast of Toronto
“Well… you’ve certainly made a mess of things, haven’t you?”
Logan glanced up from the paperwork he was going over at his desk to the doorway of his office at his training centre. There he saw the familiar face of Casey Anderson, a long time friend of his, as well as indy wrestler and trainer. She is a few years older than Logan and while her features are a little worn, she still looked to be in top physical condition. She’s dressed casually, much the same as Logan, and her long red hair is tied back behind her. Logan frowns slightly.
“That… is an understatement.”
Casey smiled at him as she stepped away from the door and into his office. She strolled over to his desk and took a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side from him. She leaned back, making herself comfortable as she stared over at him. “I’ll say this for you Logan… you really don’t go out and do things by half measures. I suppose some people should find that level of dedication admirable, but many of them will not understand the motives behind your actions.”
“That is a given.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He looked back at Casey, past his hands as he steepled his fingers in front of him. “It’s just that… I started off this tenure in FGA with such an optimistic and idealistic view of things. I was a few years removed from competition and I just wanted to try and settle easily back into things. I wasn’t looking to get involved with some of the wild and crazy grudges and feuds like I had in the past. Then Ashlyn came along and made her offer for Dynamic Duos… and that changed everything.” He smiled slightly. “I tried though. I honestly tried my best to not let things drag me or us down…” He closed his eyes. “Then Smart Style came back around and laid the ground rules out for us at the anniversary show last year. Then for four months… I let their actions eat away at me and slowly they eroded my confidence, my optimism and my idealism. They reminded me that words only get you so far with some people… and that if you are going to get a message across that will resonate and stick with people, you have to use a different medium.” He shook his head at that.
Casey tilted her head to one side. “And that was where you and Ashlyn attacked Smart Style after they had become Tag Team champions.”
He nodded. “Yeah. We made it clear that when others crossed us, that they could expect retaliation. We waited four months to repay Mark and Shintaro. This time… I didn’t wait nearly as long.”
She continued to stare at him intently. “But was All Star Showdown really the best time and place for that?”
All he could do was shrug. “I don’t know. I’m sure I could make an argument to try and justify it, but I’m not going to. I don’t think there was a best way to handle this situation. But there was no way I was just going to turn the other cheek and ignore or condone the actions of the people that I was supposed to call team members that night.” He scowled. “They made their choices. I offered them a response for those actions. Whatever comes from it, I will have to accept the consequences.”
Casey raised an eyebrow. “Even with Ashlyn?”
“Especially with Ashlyn.” He let out another breath. “What I did was quite likely the worst thing I could have done with regard to us as a team. She did slap me once we met up after the match. Not really a surprise… probably could have been worse if she hadn’t been so surprised by what I did.” He rubbed one hand over his mouth for a few moments as he lowered the other one to the arm of his chair. “As things stand… our trust is gone. I’ve burned that bridge completely. We’re no longer a team. Instead we’re now just a pair of individuals that happen to be working together.”
She sat up and leaned closer to him. “So… what is that going to mean going into your title match next weekend?”
Another shrug. “Nothing good, that’s for sure. We’re not facing any slouches in the ring. I can’t fix the damage I’ve done… and it’s almost certain that things will get worse.”
Casey looked surprised by that. “Why? What are you planning?”
Logan glanced down at the desktop between them.
“What I feel has to be done.”
Seattle
SMACK!
The sound echoed through the empty corridors. Something about it… without the buzz of a crowd… without the background audio of an audience… just sounded grittier. Felt colder.
The show had been over for upwards of a half hour. The PA system had abandoned anything popular and had devolved back into the satellite radio’s slow jams-- particularly “Cool Night” by Paul Davis at this point. That stupid song would always be stuck in Ashlyn’s head as she glared up at her tag team partner. She didn’t know why tears were welling up in her eyes. She felt dumb. But she felt like it somehow made sense. Her palm stung. This stupid song was still going. But she glared up at Logan, breathing heavily, waiting for-- something. An explanation. An apology. Something.
Logan slowly turned to face Ashlyn again, his cheek turning red from the stinging blow. His expression wasn’t one of anger though. He still wore that maddening detached expression on his face from the team meeting almost two hours ago when he’d walked out. The one where he hadn’t even acknowledged his own partner.
“Well… I deserved that.”
A single, breathless, humorless laugh. Ashlyn shook her head, looking at him incredulously. Her mouth hung open, ready to form some words that her mind wasn’t finished coming up with yet. She closed it. Closed her eyes. Took a small breath-- but it didn’t help. She still felt her jaw shaking a bit. She still felt the anger.
“You made us look like fucking idiots,” Ash said, not even able to meet his gaze anymore. “Like-- I was… I was with you when you said you didn’t wanna lead these guys. Okay? I got that. I agreed.” She took a deep breath, opening her eyes, looking toward the ground. “But that? That was bullshit.”
Logan regarded her quietly for a few moments. “Yes. That was the idea.”
Ashlyn looked at him, her face cycling through a variety of emotions-- before settling on laughter. She ran a hand over her tired face, back through her hair, laughing to herself for a moment before sighing, looking up at Logan with bloodshot eyes and a bitter smile.
“That was the idea.” Another scoff. Another breathless, empty laugh, and the Tag Team Champion shook her head. “Are you serious? Fuck you, Logan.”
She turned, looking toward her packed bags that sat by the doorway of the dressing room. With another deep breath, Ash walked over to them, pausing, leaning forward with a hand against the wall.
“I just…”
She stopped, pushing off of the wall, pivoting, her shoe squeaking on the tile of the floor as she turned to Logan.
“I don’t get it. You give me shit, you give James shit for not being gung-ho about this Team Flashpoint thing… and then you pull the most selfish fucking shit I have ever seen. How far up your ass is your head right now?” She placed her hands to her temples, groaning. “I’m just-- for a SECOND-- trying to think of where your head’s at. I’m just trying to fucking get it, but I can’t. I don’t. Because it’s stupid. You’re trying to prove-- I don’t know.” She laughed again, clearly bitter, throwing her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but if the end goal is to fuck us then congratufuckinglations, Logan, because we’re basically there right now.”
She shook her head, sniffing-- clearly the aftereffects of minutes of stupid, pointless crying, if you asked her. Ashlyn turned, bending down to pick her bag up, throwing the strap over her shoulder as she moved toward the door.
“You’re right about all of it.” He said the words just before Ashlyn got to the door. “I’m not going to justify any of it, cause I can’t now.”
Ashlyn paused. She stayed, frozen there for a few moments… before shaking her head softly and shrugging the bags up onto her back, making her way out of the dressing room, leaving Logan behind.
July 16, 2018
Atlanta
“What a dick, right?”
The eighteen-year-old Aron Polczynik shook his head, a knowing “I told you so”-esque smirk on his face as he stirred sugar into the tea that sat before him at the small, tattered table that sat in the kitchen, hidden behind the walls of the cafe. He was one of the three souls left in the small downtown Atlanta cafe that Ashlyn De Luca co-owned along with her roommate and best friend, Karen Reynolds.
“Karen,” Aron continued, looking toward the other co-owner with his hands raised. “Did I, or did I not tell Ash that this dude was a dick? Did I not tell Cass this? Did I not tell all of you?” He looked toward Karen with raised brows, a look on his face that silently demanded validation.
With a small sigh, the redhead pushed a lock of hair out of her face and glanced over toward Ashlyn, who’d been quiet for the better part of the night, standing by the sink, rag in hand as she washed each item before loading them into the dishwasher. Karen rolled her eyes at Aron and swatted at the back of his head as she moved past. “Not the time.”
“Not the time,” Aron mocked in a high-pitched, questionable-at-best American accent.
“Is that supposed to be me?” Karen muttered, turning on her heel to look back at Aron as she stood next to Ashlyn at the sink.
Aron smirked. “I mean…”
“Why are you still here, Aron?” Ashlyn asked, tiredly looking over toward him from across the cafe. “Don’t you have some Reddit threads to spam or some shit?”
“Oh.” Aron raised his phone. “I can do that from anywhere, bro.”
Ashlyn blinked. “Go home.”
Aron scoffed, feigning offense as he pushed his chair out from the table, giving Karen and Ashlyn a smirk while he rose to his feet. “You’re lucky I’ve gotta go feed the cats anyway. I’m taking the mug with me too. You’ll get it back when you get it back.”
“Go,” Karen repeated, waving Aron off.
“Mmhm.” Aron used his hip to slide the stool into place, moving past the pair with the mug to his lips. “Had enough time at Poor Man’s Central Perk anyway.” He raised the mug as he reached the doorway of the kitchen, leading into the dining room of the cafe. “And Ashlyn, if you end up getting any free time this week, my YouTube channel would probably get a shit ton of hits if you popped your head in for another one of those movie revie--”
Ashlyn turned, launching the wet rag toward Aron’s head, but the kid closed the door in the knick of time. A muffled cry came in from the outside.
“...I assume that means you’ll consider!”
The girls waited silently-- Karen with a tiny smirk on her face-- as the eighteen-year-old departed. She
July 19, 2018
Whitchurch-Stouffville, northeast of Toronto
“Well… you’ve certainly made a mess of things, haven’t you?”
Logan glanced up from the paperwork he was going over at his desk to the doorway of his office at his training centre. There he saw the familiar face of Casey Anderson, a long time friend of his, as well as indy wrestler and trainer. She is a few years older than Logan and while her features are a little worn, she still looked to be in top physical condition. She’s dressed casually, much the same as Logan, and her long red hair is tied back behind her. Logan frowns slightly.
“That… is an understatement.”
Casey smiled at him as she stepped away from the door and into his office. She strolled over to his desk and took a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side from him. She leaned back, making herself comfortable as she stared over at him. “I’ll say this for you Logan… you really don’t go out and do things by half measures. I suppose some people should find that level of dedication admirable, but many of them will not understand the motives behind your actions.”
“That is a given.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He looked back at Casey, past his hands as he steepled his fingers in front of him. “It’s just that… I started off this tenure in FGA with such an optimistic and idealistic view of things. I was a few years removed from competition and I just wanted to try and settle easily back into things. I wasn’t looking to get involved with some of the wild and crazy grudges and feuds like I had in the past. Then Ashlyn came along and made her offer for Dynamic Duos… and that changed everything.” He smiled slightly. “I tried though. I honestly tried my best to not let things drag me or us down…” He closed his eyes. “Then Smart Style came back around and laid the ground rules out for us at the anniversary show last year. Then for four months… I let their actions eat away at me and slowly they eroded my confidence, my optimism and my idealism. They reminded me that words only get you so far with some people… and that if you are going to get a message across that will resonate and stick with people, you have to use a different medium.” He shook his head at that.
Casey tilted her head to one side. “And that was where you and Ashlyn attacked Smart Style after they had become Tag Team champions.”
He nodded. “Yeah. We made it clear that when others crossed us, that they could expect retaliation. We waited four months to repay Mark and Shintaro. This time… I didn’t wait nearly as long.”
She continued to stare at him intently. “But was All Star Showdown really the best time and place for that?”
All he could do was shrug. “I don’t know. I’m sure I could make an argument to try and justify it, but I’m not going to. I don’t think there was a best way to handle this situation. But there was no way I was just going to turn the other cheek and ignore or condone the actions of the people that I was supposed to call team members that night.” He scowled. “They made their choices. I offered them a response for those actions. Whatever comes from it, I will have to accept the consequences.”
Casey raised an eyebrow. “Even with Ashlyn?”
“Especially with Ashlyn.” He let out another breath. “What I did was quite likely the worst thing I could have done with regard to us as a team. She did slap me once we met up after the match. Not really a surprise… probably could have been worse if she hadn’t been so surprised by what I did.” He rubbed one hand over his mouth for a few moments as he lowered the other one to the arm of his chair. “As things stand… our trust is gone. I’ve burned that bridge completely. We’re no longer a team. Instead we’re now just a pair of individuals that happen to be working together.”
She sat up and leaned closer to him. “So… what is that going to mean going into your title match next weekend?”
Another shrug. “Nothing good, that’s for sure. We’re not facing any slouches in the ring. I can’t fix the damage I’ve done… and it’s almost certain that things will get worse.”
Casey looked surprised by that. “Why? What are you planning?”
Logan glanced down at the desktop between them.
“What I feel has to be done.”