No Success In Your Obsession

[AshCandor]

Won't you come see about me?
I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby

Don’t You (Forget About Me) – Simple Minds

Time: Then (Sophomore Year of High School)
Place: English Class

Salem sat staring out the window, chin resting on her fist. She lightly tapped the pen on her tablet of paper. Everything out there seemed far more interesting than in here: the trees swaying in the breeze, the birds singing, the sky looked brightly painted and perfect. The teacher up front was droning on about MLA style for essays going into their portfolios, citing bibliographies, and other dry subjects. Salem’s eyes shifted back to her paper. The top half of the page seemed in order, properly taking notes. But as she often did, she got distracted, and the remainder of the page was cartoon doodles, half-scribbled song lyrics, and a new thing she’d taken to doing: repetitively writing names. It was one name in fact, a boy: Jason Myers. She’d filled up most of the right hand margin of the paper with that, differing the styles. A couple of times she even jotted down Salem Myers, just to see how that looked.

She looked up, away from the windows this time towards the door, and two rows over and three seats up sat Jason. Jet black hair slicked back, he always dressed sharper than the other guys in her class; button down shirts tucked in, shoes matching belts. He had dimples when he smiled which was often. Never seemed that tan but his natural olive skin tone stood out. She could go on and on, thinking about him in her head like this. This was unlike her, this was a full-fledged crush. She liked him immensely, unfortunately it was a one way street. Jason Myers never said much more than “hello” or “hi” to her as they passed in the halls, usually in response to a sheepish wave as she stood by her locker. She was far too scared to talk to him, her stomach went in knots and her brain short-circuited at even the slightest notion of that. Truth was she was a wallflower, and she didn’t really socialize with anyone, let alone a boy she liked. After school it was straight home to do homework, rarely did she ever go to after school events. It was probably this closed-off aspect of her that made moments like these intensify her yearnings more than most.

-

A while later outside in the hallway, another shy exchange… a hi and bye. A goofy grin on her face that was quickly erased when a hand snaked around out of nowhere and shoved her back hard against her locker.

“What are ya looking at, small fry? Somebody’s making googly eyes at a boy! Wait until I tell mom...” Salem’s older sister Morgan stood nose to nose with her regarding her smugly. An evil grin was on her face, which wasn’t uncommon in those days. “Jason Myers, of all people. Isn’t he just precious. He’s got a girlfriend though, how scandalous, Salem! Maybe I’ll sneak into the office later and blare the news to the whole school, hmm? Salem’s got a cruuuuuuuush!”

Salem’s face turned a crimson red that could’ve only been a deeper shade had it actually been covered in blood.

“Morgan! Don’t you dare! God… why do you do this to me?” She frowned. Salem marveled at Morgan even being at school on this day. She was a senior but seemed to play hooky about as much as actually attending. Mom and Dad had gotten a few letters from the school on this issue already. “But… he has a girlfriend? I didn’t know.”

“Love’s got you blind, is that it?” Morgan giggled. “What, were you expecting him to ask you to the dance or something? Oh this is rich!” She laughed aloud and shook Salem by the shoulders. “Keep on dreaming, little sis.” Morgan released her and flipped her hair back as she turned, bouncing off down the hall, the chains on her leather jacket jingling.

-

Later at lunch, it seemed the word was getting around, the rumor that Salem liked Jason. Salem kept her head down staring at her food, highly embarrassed that it had gotten to this point so quickly. So many thoughts dancing through her head. Dancing? Ugh, did she have to use that particular term?

“Salem?”

Her heart somehow both sank and was uplifted at the sound of this voice… his voice. She looked up and managed an awkward smile.

“Hey Jason, what’s up?” ‘Don’t say something stupid’ - she thought to herself.

“Is it true, you want to go to the dance?”

“I… I’d thought about it.”

He smiled, and then sighed.

“Well, I already asked someone but my buddy Fred doesn’t have a date. If you still want to go, that is. We can all hang out or whatever.”

Fred… he had zits and a big nose. Salem figured he’d have a harder time than her getting a date for the dance if she really wanted to go that badly. It was cruel of her to think that, true. Still, the prospect of getting to hang out with Jason, even just in a group had her a bit elated.

“Sure, Jason. I’d love to go with you. I mean, with Fred and then hang with your group. Yeah…”

‘Nice going, you big goof’ - she thought.

“Great. We’ll work out all the details for that night then!”

-

Baby, sometimes I'm so carefree
With a joy that's hard to hide
And sometimes it seems that, all I have to do is worry
And then you're bound to see my other side

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood – The Animals

[Dance Night]

Jason and Fred did not adhere to the details for that night that were worked out. Fred did not come pick Salem up. That was the first red flag. She sat there on the porch, sullen in her frilly dress. Her parents, David and Elizabeth stood watching from the front window; arms folded and narrow-lipped.

“Come on, pipsqueak. If you’re gonna make this dance, I’ll take ya.”

Salem looked up, it was Morgan taking a drag off a cigarette. In full view of her parents, but Morgan didn’t care.

“Morgan, really… you’d do that for me?”

“Oh shut up, this ain’t exactly out of the kindness of my heart. Dad said he’d take my car keys for a month if I didn’t. So get up, let’s go.”

Salem shrugged and wiped at her eyes, getting up. She got in the car and they made it to the high school gym a short time later. Morgan decided to go on in herself, and she only got a small amount of push-back from the teacher chaperons. As usual, she’d made trouble at the last couple so they were wary. But Morgan had promised to be good...again.

Salem walked inside, and was immediately floored by the lights and sounds. She’d never been to one that was this cool, granted this was her first dance in a few years so she didn’t have much to compare it to. She walked around, seeing so many of her classmates, some were shocked that she even showed up. She went and got some punch. She went to drink it, and her elbow got bumped and she spilled it down her dress. Salem looked up to see a fuming girl standing next to her.

“What’s this obsession with MY boyfriend Jason, huh?”

It was Carrie King, the prettiest girl in their class. Naturally, of course it was. How could Salem be so blind and stupid, guess she always had seen what she wanted to see. Her obsession had clouded her mind, blinded her to sheer hard facts apparently. Salem had crafted this fantasy world in which Jason was single and how all she had to do was make him notice her.

“Carrie, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I’ll just go.” She was beyond embarrassed, her dress red. At least it wasn’t pig’s blood. Then she looked at Carrie and smirked.

“What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing… I’m going.”

Across the room in a dark corner, Morgan and some of her rough cohorts were hanging out. Just then Jason’s sister Jamie Myers walked over to the group. She watched Salem walking away.

“Is that your sister Salem? You know… I’ve had a bit of a crush on her.”

“Jamie… WHAT?! Psssh. Nah, don’t waste your time with Salem, she’s lame. I’m the much cooler Cartier sister. Tell me, ever sat on the roof, smoked cigs, and made out with a senior?”

Jamie looked at Morgan with a wry smile.

“No, but something tells me I’m about to.”

Morgan put an arm around Jamie and made off to a stairwell. Outside, Salem sat on the curb. After a while a smile group of students burst through the doors. Among them were Jason, Fred, and Carrie.

“Ah look, Fred it’s your date.” Jason chuckled.

“Oh yeah, right! Hey baby, still want a dance?” Fred played along.

Salem looked up, and somewhere her feeling sad shifted to being mad. Her face got red again, not out of embarrassment, but pure anger. She got up and marched over to the group.

“Everything’s funny, right? Pick on the weird girl? Ugh! Consider my obsession with you over, Jason. And you, Fred?!? A dance?”

She hauled off and slugged him right in the nose and then started to storm off back inside to find her sister and get the hell out of here.

“My nose! I think it’s broken!” Fred wailed.

“IT. WOULD. BE. AN. IMPROVEMENT!!!” Salem yelled as she slammed the door behind her.

-

We all been playing those mind games forever
Some kinda druid dudes lifting the veil
Doing the mind guerrilla
Some call it magic, the search for the grail

Mind Games – John Lennon

I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
But you yourself are nothing so divine
Just next in line

You Know My Name – Chris Cornell

[On-Camera]

Time: Now
Place: A Local Mall

The video picks up with Salem walking among the pieces of a life sized chess board and pieces, something out of Alice in Wonderland set up right in the galleria of this mall. She walks among the pieces, white and black. Running her fingers over a select few.

“On this week’s Vertigo, I draw a shady and crafty individual. Memorable in his creep factor, not so memorable in the win column from what I’ve seen. Still to some of the viewers and the wrestlers on the roster, you’ve made an impression. Aries Reed especially. Week after week, show after show it seems like you can’t get enough of him, can you? You like the tall dark and handsome types, do ya girlfriend? You won’t stop until you get enough, and I suppose the word ‘no’ just turns you on even more, makes you want him that much more?”

She winks and throws her arm around the black king game piece on the board.

“So far you’ve placed hands on him, kissed him, spilled his blood, and even made him drink your own. Well, he was unconscious at the time, but still. You are no doubt sick, but I guess everyone has a little kink to them, hmmm? Here’s my take on it: keep obsessing over him, by all means. I want him to be the foremost thing on your mind. Why? Because when you’re obsessing over him, you’re overlooking me. And if I haven’t made it clear enough around the wrestling world, your problems start when you begin to overlook me.”

She tiptoed and peered over the king back towards the food court and waved at some onlooking fans.

“Just recently, I fought Nicole Hamilton in a Last Woman Standing match in HKW. She chose to overlook me. She chose to obsess over the one thing that was most important to her: a retired version of a belt in her possession that brought back memories of herself as a champion, a relic of her relevance. Now, that belt had been replaced with a fresh design and is around the waist of the real champion, a damn good deserving champion at that in Ashley Sullivan. So what did I do to Nicole’s precious paperweight of a worthless belt? I did the only thing I could do at the time. I spit on it. I realize that might seem disrespectful, but that belt and Nicole herself had not earned my respect. And she went ballistic, cradling that belt like a baby. From there I planted my pointy sharp elbow into her temple with the New Hampshire Handshake, spread some thumbtacks out on the mat, and then planted her face into them with the spinning double underhook facebuster I call Hijack Kevorkian. That’s a move I call such because in some small degrees I help assist in killing you against your will inside a wrestling ring.”

Salem chuckles and shrugs, skipping from square to square on the board, leapfrogging a pawn or two.

“Then, just last Vertigo I faced Jimmy Page for the third time. Now people often don’t like cliches, but the thing about them is that they’re often true whether we like it or not. On that night, the third time was definitely a charm and I finally broke the stalemate of our two previous encounters having no winner by defeating Jimmy Page in the middle of the ring. I left every ounce of energy I had out there in that ring, and I had my hand raised at the end. Why would I bring that up in reference to our match at hand, Nero? You see, Jimmy had an obsession going that night and probably for some time before that too… he had Chandler Scott on his mind. Multiple times throughout the show he wondered where Chandler was, and if he would accept some sort of challenge from him. Obsession blinds you, distracts you. I’m not saying for certain, but if I fought a distracted Jimmy Page on that night, it’s no skin off my nose. Jimmy Page is a veteran, a former world champion. He should know better. He should’ve had his beady little eyes trained on me, just like you should have your beady little eyes focused squarely in my direction, Nero.”

She made the “I’m watching you” gesture with her index and middle finger, pointing them first toward her eyes and then toward the camera.

“Because I see you, Nero. I see you very well. I’m not Aries Reed so don’t get the two of us confused; I mean me being a pale ass white girl, I could see where you’d make that mistake. If you want to keep your heart going pitter patter over this star-crossed Romeo and Juliet stalker routine, feel free. Maybe instead of seeing stars, you’ll have hearts in your eyes when I put you down for the count and once again get my hand raised in victory.”

She stepped behind the white knight piece, the horse head and pretended to be riding it, making a lasso that she whipped toward the camera and then raised her arms over her head.

“The thing about someone who likes mind games when their mind is elsewhere is that then their game sucks. Pure and simple, no other way to say it really. You can be as sick and twisted and perverted as you want, Nero. You can fiddle about but it won’t be Rome burning… no it will be your prospects of defeating me going up in flames. Your crooked grin and greasy hair don’t frighten me one bit. I’ve had daydreams that drew more fright out of me than you ever could in a lifetime.”

She slapped her hands together and rubbed them together vigorously.

“Do you want to play a game? If so, I suggest a new strategy.”

She unleashed a side kick that toppled the white king over onto its side with an echoing thud.

“It’s called ‘Let The Witchy Win’. Because Salem Cartier is THAT Witch. And That Witch Endures. ‘Tis the Season.”

She walks out of the frame, but then pokes her head back in.

“Oh yeah, checkmate. I don’t even like chess.”

Giggling, she walks off as the video slowly fades to black.