Sav
Sept 15, 2016 19:59:22 GMT -5
Post by The Mason on Sept 15, 2016 19:59:22 GMT -5
SEPTEMBER 4, 2016
LOS ANGELES, CA
“Heh. ‘Mark Storm sucks’, he said. ‘I don’t lose to people who suck’, he said. And hey, Sadie-- Sadie, remember this one? Remember, ‘Molly Reid needs me’ and I might be paraphrasing that last one, but Molly Reid, my friend, certainly did not need you against Kelly Kelly or whoever. Amirite?”
I was amused, I admit it. I could be a better friend. But Evan sat there and took it as he unpacked his bag, preparing to set up a bed for himself on Tyler Harrison’s sofa.
Tyler Harrison. His grinning bright-eyed, older brother. He’d granted us the apartment for the night. But Evan hardly seemed thankful.
Never once did he look at his brother once we entered the house. He’d gone completely mute since we walked in. Tyler Harrison was persistent though. He walked over from the dining room where I stood. He leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at Evan.
“Just say you were wrong and I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of th--”
“Mark Storm still sucks,” Envi said, glaring up at Tyler. “Savannah Taylor is still just as bad, and she’s over pampered. Noelle is still a groupie. And Molly Reid is still nothing because she stays in her own head and no matter how much she boasts, she is always gonna be like that until someone fixes her.” He stands up, eyes still on his brother. The clothes he had in his hands fell to the couch. “But I lost. Does that make you happy?”
Tyler still wore a smirk but I didn’t get the same vibes from him anymore. He didn’t have the same sense of satisfaction I saw before.
“So you’re gonna get all serious on me,” Tyler muttered.
“I’m tired,” Evan replied. He then gestured toward the only one of the condo’s three bedrooms that had a closed door-- that which belonged to Tyler’s ten-year-old son, Joey. “And I don’t wanna wake my nephew.”
“Alright,” Tyler said, glancing toward the same door with the smallest tinge of guilt. “I’ll give you shit in the morning then.”
“If we’re still here,” Evan said, quietly, pulling a blanket from his duffel bag.
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Alright, I didn’t know you were so goddamn sensitive. I apolog--”
“Tyler.” Evan stood upright again, looking tiredly into the face of his older brother. “I’m done discussing it. I’m…” He paused and his shoulders slumped. “I’m done.’
A silence fell over the room for a few moments. All I could hear was what seemed to be the screech and hiss of static from the muted (and fittingly obsolete) living room television in the background. Evan and Tyler looked at each other for a few moments and then Tyler turned, not lying eyes on Evan again before he made his way back toward his bedroom. Perhaps out of politeness, he threw his hand up toward me as he reached his doorway.
“Goodnight, Sadie.”
Tyler left and the room was subjected to a silence that hadn’t been available before.
“I can take the couch if you want,” I said, stupidly thinking the offer to relax in the twin bed in the guest room as opposed to the couch would lift his spirits.
“I’m good,” he muttered. Finally finished with preparing his area for the night, he kicked off his shoes and lied down, not even bothering to change into the pajamas he’d gone through the trouble of tugging out of his bag. He was still. He was silent. So I took it as my cue to turn, walking into the guest room without another word. Sure, my conscience or my heart or whatever was telling me to go back there and reassure him-- and perhaps I’d taken my time with Evan for granted and I wasn’t as skilled as reading him as I’d like to think-- but if I’d learned anything, it’s that he would bounce back.
After all, Evan Harrison is still a human being.
And sooner or later, common sense, logic, and understanding just has to prevail.
Has to.
SEPTEMBER 8, 2016
HENDERSON, NV
“What the sweet fuck is he doing?”
Fair question.
I should preface the situation by saying, days have passed and I was both presumptuous and wrong-- there is no unwritten law that says common sense, logic, and understanding ever have to prevail. Ever. But I had confidence. Which is now shot. Because as I sat in the passenger’s seat, next to Michaela Dragomirov (better known in the wrestling world as Lani San Diego), I realized I should’ve been shocked by the scene that was unfolding in Evan’s front yard. But I wasn’t. There was the red flag.
I don’t know when he’d had the opportunity to dig a hole as big and as wide as the one I was staring at, but he did it. Goddamnit, Evan Envi found the time.
I don’t know who helped him douse the interior of the new excavation with lighter fluid. Maybe he did it himself. But he did it.
I don’t know what he had to say or who he had to say it to for his neighbors and passersby to allow this to go down. But it was. A raging, healthy fire, rocketing feet into the sky from its own personal, man-made Hell on the property of Evan Harrison.
“This Mark Storm thing is really getting to him, hm?” Lani didn’t even try to hide her amusement as we made our loop at the bottom of the cul de sac, slowly approaching the front of Evan’s property.
She pulled the keys from the ignition as we parked in the driveway and within a second, the passenger door was open. I climbed out, looking at Evan with a glare. It wasn’t until then that we realized he wasn’t alone, but was standing alongside his neighbor, Pedro. Pedro was likely Evan’s age, in his mid or late twenties, and hailed from Los Mochis, Mexico. I don’t know how much English he spoke. I never heard him speak it. But he watched with crossed arms as Evan tossed belongings from boxes into the fire.
“EVAN!” I yelled, stomping from the driveway, across the grass.
“Stay back, Sadie!” Evan called, holding up a hand. “I’m all deep in this!”
“In what?!” I demanded. “You’re begging for a news crew to--”
“I need to burn everything that belongs to Noelle.” And he said it like it meant something. Like it justified the fucking scene he was causing.
“Hahahaha!” Lani closed her car door behind me and pointed toward the fire with a broad grin. “For the record, I support what he’s doing. I will totally help him burn Noelle-related shit.”
I glared at her, but it didn’t matter. Eagerly, Lani skipped past me, kicking her flip-flops off in the grass, pulling a tee shirt out of one of the cardboard boxes that sat before the fire. I wanted to shout something at her but I didn’t bother. She wasn’t the one I’d invested time-- and by default, money-- in lately. I made my way toward Evan, stopping just a foot short of him as he tossed a pair of socks into the fire.
“I assume you’re here to assist,” he said, bending down to reach into one of the boxes.
“You’re out of your mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s put this out.”
“When I’m finished,” Evan responded, sternly. He reached into a box, retrieving an older iPhone model. “And this is my iPhone which lost all WiFi connectivity! All my nudes of Noelle are on here, and I don’t need ‘em!”
He tossed the phone to the flames. Pedro promptly slapped the phone back into Evan’s arms. Evan took a deep breath and gave Pedro a nod.
“Good call, Pedro. That’s why you’re here.”
Tossing the phone into the yard, he reached into the box and tossed a tank top into the fire. It crackled louder… leapt higher. I ran my palms over my eyes and down my face. “Is this healthy prep?”
He kneeled down, picking an entire box up into his arms as he looked at me. “Physically? Inno.” He pivoted, heaving the box into the fire. The flames leapt up. Shot out. I took a defensive step back away from the pit and Evan stepped toward me. “But emotionally, yes! Yes, Sadie, this is good! I’m feeling better! I’m getting…” He heaved another box into the flames and Lani followed suit. ”Closure!”
“Ah. Great.” I took another step away from the fire.
From a larger box, Lani tugged at something. She sighed, struggling, and leaned over the edge of the box to pull it out. I turned my attention back to Evan, who was already looking right back at me.
“She’s gone. And she isn’t coming back. I accepted it, Sadie” he said, sweating. And I wasn’t sure if it was because of the fire or because of the amount of things he’d thrown away, but he was drenched in it.
“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to look past the flames toward his neighborhood-- but I couldn’t see it. Just fire and black moke.
“So what did you throw away?” I asked him.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Lani finally pulled whatever she was seeking out of the box, falling over in the process. A life-sized statue of Noelle lied on top of her, but with a mighty heave, Lani shoved it into the fire. I froze. I turned to Evan again.
“Why did you have that?!”
“Have what?” Evan asked, calmly.
“Why did you h…” I took a breath. “The st…” Why. What was I trying to accomplish. “I don’t know what I really saw.”
“That’s correct,” Evan agreed.
I continued with my earlier inquiry. “So what did you throw away?”
“OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH GODDDDDD.”
I couldn’t help my reaction.
There was nothing.
His house was empty. There were no couches. There was no television. There were no chairs. No tables. Aside from the lights that hung from the ceiling, there was absolutely nothing left inside the house.
“I need to be completely focused on the Pride Championship and all events leading up to it, Sadie,” Evan said, calmly. “And if I don’t make it through this Five-Way Fray, then I have no Pride Title to focus on. And I cannot focus when I am distracted by petty objects that remind me of Noelle Smith.” He nodded. “So. I got rid of them all.”
I blinked. “You got rid of everything.”
Evan frowned. “Untrue. My entire Cardcaptors collection remains in mint condition, Sadie, untouched, just like it was meant to--”
“I want to know how she did this to you,” I said, quietly.
“Who?” Evan asked, wide-eyed.
I took a breath. “Your opponent, goddamnit. One of them.”
Evan glared. “The only thing Molly’s done is disappoint me.”
“Noelle,” I said, firmly.
Evan closed his eyes. “All Noelle has done… is help me realize that the people that I thought were good, and nice, and PURE and stuff in this business…” He opened his eyes, glaring over at me. “They just friggin’ aren’t. She’s a piece of crap. She’s a groupie. And she’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And I got rid of everything that reminds me of her.”
“Including all your belongings.”
He shook his head, raising a finger into the air as he rounded the corner, walking up the stairs to the upper-level of the house. “Including all distractions.”
His footsteps faded until they disappeared upstairs. I glanced out the window, where Lani hosed down the flames by herself, still amused… still tickled by the events.
I turned, looking again at the place that was supposed to be my second home-- now bigger and emptier than ever.
SEPTEMBER 15, 2016
DENVER, CO
”Hi, Savannah.
You. You.
You’re the one that’s been the hardest to get to know, Sav. You’ve been the hardest to get a hold of. Aside from your shortcomings, you’ve been the hardest for me to get interested in. And I figure it’s only fair that I address you as a priority when I’m going through all this because while you’re a friggin’ SUUUUPERB talent in your own right, you’ve been kind of an afterthought in this whole Pride Championship hunt ever since we all clamored out there and staked our claim a week and a half-or-so back and-- and I mean, there are reasons for it, y’know?
Like… you did BASICALLY lose to the champ back at Above & Beyond. It wasn’t ambiguous. It wasn’t a valiant effort on your part thwarted by the man because of the buzzer-- because of the technical time limit. NO. My least-favorite wrestler of all-time, the Anatomical Anomaly herself, Fujiko Mine, BEEEEEAT YOU, fair and square! Clean! Decisively!
Savannah Taylor versus Fuji? We already know where this ends up because until the twenty-minute mark cut it short, we saw what was happening! You were a loser, Savannah! And you know what else?! Huh?! You wanna know what else?!
You aren’t silent on the Twitter because you’re too good for it and too busy for it! You aren’t silent to the interviewers and to the cameras on AfterBurn and every other news source out there because you have somethin’ wrong with your mouth! At least not yet you don’t. YOOOUUU, Savannah Taylor, don’t have anything to say, because you KNOW you don’t deserve to be in the Pride Title match! You went out there to run your mouth, not knowing that one-by-one, people from the roster more deserving than yourself would file out to throw their name in the hat.
And you know what? This-- this five-way-fray thing that every loser on the internet initially calls a ‘cluster’? YOU are to blame for it, Savannah, as much as my, once again, LEAST-FAVORITE WRESTLER OF ALL TIME, FUJIKO MINE, because once your illegitimate self waltzed out there, eeeeverybody assumed they had a shot at the title. And why the heck not, since Fuji was pretty much insistent on playing a game of musical chairs to determine the next champ anyway?
But unlike you, Sav, some deserving contenders made their way out there to take part in the hunt for the Pride Championship.
One of ‘em was Mark.
Ugh.
Now, while Mark Stork does indeed suck, I gotta correct myself in thinking that he was some geek off the street that couldn’t beat me. I mean, yeah, I MIGHT HAVE underestimated Mark Storm just a tad, but once I realized who this dude was, I gave it my all, y’know? Mark is a little bit more than the average flash of the pan that sticks around an establishment like this for a couple of months and then fades away. He’s a little tougher than the average vet might give him credit for. He’s quick. He’s intelligent. When it comes to this business he gets it, man. It’s admirable in a way. It’s like…
It’s… like…
...like, I could’ve won that match at any friggin’ second, but as I have stated, the referee was a Mark Storm fan and while the legalities of the whole situation are a bit unclear, I am still in negotiations to get that wiped from the history books… y’know… because of the controversy and all.
Mark Storm is still good though. Don’t get me wrong. I mean, he might’ve gotten me for a long two if a proper referee was officiating the match, y’know? Mmmmmight’a made me sweat a little bit but like… psshhh… that’s probably ‘bout it though.
Don’t let one three count fool you. Mark Storm still isn’t me. He might be good, but he still isn’t amazing.
For all he’s done, and for how many miles he’s traveled, Mark Storm still sucks.
On the other end of the spectrum, I am amazing, Savannah. Focus.
When it comes to my ex-girlfriend, Noelle, I’m superior to her in almost every way. Know what I mean? Like, the fans probably cheer her ironically or something. Out of pity or something because Noelle Smith is the scum of God’s green earth. She badmouths me every chance she gets, rubbing her potential-relationship-of-the-month in my face like some kind of unfed troll.
She posts the same friggin’ pictures on Twitter all day and tweets the same dudes over and over in some cry for attention in whatever it is while it’s cool-- ‘man respect Monday’ is what I think the new one is. And she’s so thirsty, Sav. She LOOKS for attention and she has been BEGGING ANY DUDE for a relationship ever since she split with me, whether it’s Dexter Jacobs, or the married Kerry Windsor, or Miles, or Sands, or someone, until finally, some dude that doesn’t even deserve to be mentioned hit it HALF AS WELL as the Chief did, and suddenly, Noelle Smith, everyman’s woman, settled on becoming the catchphrase-reciting groupie that she’s BEEN for the past year.
HOPE HE DOESN’T RUN OUT OF PHRASES! HOPE HE DOESN’T SEE WHAT YOU’RE REALLY LIKE WHEN ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE MAN AND HE’S FORCED TO SHED THE OUTERMOST LAYERS OF HIS--”
And at this time, I turned the camera off for a moment, because Evan Envi was fucking beside himself. It was uncomfortable. Seriously. I had to hit him a couple of times. Like. Goddamn.
Goddamn.
Anyway.
”Anyway.
She isn’t that great anyway, Sav. Y’know? Noelle held the Mid-Atlantic Championship, and she’s got experience against Fuji in the ring, but unlike you, Noelle is a completist. No matter how she did it, she took the championship in one way or another, and maaaaybe that means she could do it again.
I mean, probably not, because I’m in the equation, aha. But you can’t rule experience like that out! She could be the dark horse of this whole thing. Every bit of preparation and every ounce of confidence you had could mean NOTHING. And Noelle could be the one to emerge victorious from the Five-Way Fray. Because she prides herself on that kind of thing, y’know? She loves to capitalize on the emotion of other people. I watched her do it in Platinum Dynasty Wrestling before she ever came here. I watched her do it here. Noelle might claim I ignored her in our relationship but I never ignored a thing she did in this ring. Not once.
And I hope you didn’t either, Sav. For your sake.”
Evan took a deep breath at this point. The lens cap was still on. The audience would’ve never been able to see how red his face was. They’d have never seen the beads of sweat on his forehead. He continued, just a voice over a dark world.
”And then there’s Molly.”
He paused.
”There’s Molly…”
Evan was quiet for a long time. For a moment, I was ready to ask if I should stop filming. But before I had the chance, he spoke.
”I tried. I really did.
I didn’t think I was hurting her. I wanted to be there for Molly in a way that people weren’t there for me when I had finally found my identity in wrestling and when I was just looking for some footing-- for some real support from real wrestlers. It wasn’t so much the recognition was it was the guidance I was looking for. And I see that Molly has struggled so much harder and she’s taken so much longer to find that spark that drives a top competitor; a Pride Champion.
Who’s gonna lead her to the top? Annie?
Heh.
She was a familiar face. She was someone, admittedly, I wanted to cling to because she was familiar to me but I didn’t need Molly Reid. I didn’t need Molly Reid’s career or Molly Reid’s input to advance in FGA. Molly Reid needed Evan Envi to get to that next level. Maybe not exclusively Evan Envi, no, but by herself, she’s not gonna get to the Pride Title. With her current circle of friends, she’s not gonna get anywhere.
I wanted to make a difference, Savannah. I wanted to be the beacon of hope. I wanted to help.
But it was thrown in my face.
By Molly. By Noelle. Judging from your silence, by you. And then Mark Storm has an entirely different reason to laugh in my face.
But no one’s gonna laugh after I become the number one contender at Vertigo. No one’s gonna laugh when I’m making my way toward the Pride Championship. Toward Fujiko Mine. Toward history.
No one will remember Noelle’s stories. Or Molly’s complaints. Or Mark’s victory.
Or your silence.
They’ll just remember Envi.
As they should, Sav. As they should.”
LOS ANGELES, CA
“Heh. ‘Mark Storm sucks’, he said. ‘I don’t lose to people who suck’, he said. And hey, Sadie-- Sadie, remember this one? Remember, ‘Molly Reid needs me’ and I might be paraphrasing that last one, but Molly Reid, my friend, certainly did not need you against Kelly Kelly or whoever. Amirite?”
I was amused, I admit it. I could be a better friend. But Evan sat there and took it as he unpacked his bag, preparing to set up a bed for himself on Tyler Harrison’s sofa.
Tyler Harrison. His grinning bright-eyed, older brother. He’d granted us the apartment for the night. But Evan hardly seemed thankful.
Never once did he look at his brother once we entered the house. He’d gone completely mute since we walked in. Tyler Harrison was persistent though. He walked over from the dining room where I stood. He leaned over the back of the couch, looking down at Evan.
“Just say you were wrong and I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of th--”
“Mark Storm still sucks,” Envi said, glaring up at Tyler. “Savannah Taylor is still just as bad, and she’s over pampered. Noelle is still a groupie. And Molly Reid is still nothing because she stays in her own head and no matter how much she boasts, she is always gonna be like that until someone fixes her.” He stands up, eyes still on his brother. The clothes he had in his hands fell to the couch. “But I lost. Does that make you happy?”
Tyler still wore a smirk but I didn’t get the same vibes from him anymore. He didn’t have the same sense of satisfaction I saw before.
“So you’re gonna get all serious on me,” Tyler muttered.
“I’m tired,” Evan replied. He then gestured toward the only one of the condo’s three bedrooms that had a closed door-- that which belonged to Tyler’s ten-year-old son, Joey. “And I don’t wanna wake my nephew.”
“Alright,” Tyler said, glancing toward the same door with the smallest tinge of guilt. “I’ll give you shit in the morning then.”
“If we’re still here,” Evan said, quietly, pulling a blanket from his duffel bag.
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Alright, I didn’t know you were so goddamn sensitive. I apolog--”
“Tyler.” Evan stood upright again, looking tiredly into the face of his older brother. “I’m done discussing it. I’m…” He paused and his shoulders slumped. “I’m done.’
A silence fell over the room for a few moments. All I could hear was what seemed to be the screech and hiss of static from the muted (and fittingly obsolete) living room television in the background. Evan and Tyler looked at each other for a few moments and then Tyler turned, not lying eyes on Evan again before he made his way back toward his bedroom. Perhaps out of politeness, he threw his hand up toward me as he reached his doorway.
“Goodnight, Sadie.”
Tyler left and the room was subjected to a silence that hadn’t been available before.
“I can take the couch if you want,” I said, stupidly thinking the offer to relax in the twin bed in the guest room as opposed to the couch would lift his spirits.
“I’m good,” he muttered. Finally finished with preparing his area for the night, he kicked off his shoes and lied down, not even bothering to change into the pajamas he’d gone through the trouble of tugging out of his bag. He was still. He was silent. So I took it as my cue to turn, walking into the guest room without another word. Sure, my conscience or my heart or whatever was telling me to go back there and reassure him-- and perhaps I’d taken my time with Evan for granted and I wasn’t as skilled as reading him as I’d like to think-- but if I’d learned anything, it’s that he would bounce back.
After all, Evan Harrison is still a human being.
And sooner or later, common sense, logic, and understanding just has to prevail.
Has to.
SEPTEMBER 8, 2016
HENDERSON, NV
“What the sweet fuck is he doing?”
Fair question.
I should preface the situation by saying, days have passed and I was both presumptuous and wrong-- there is no unwritten law that says common sense, logic, and understanding ever have to prevail. Ever. But I had confidence. Which is now shot. Because as I sat in the passenger’s seat, next to Michaela Dragomirov (better known in the wrestling world as Lani San Diego), I realized I should’ve been shocked by the scene that was unfolding in Evan’s front yard. But I wasn’t. There was the red flag.
I don’t know when he’d had the opportunity to dig a hole as big and as wide as the one I was staring at, but he did it. Goddamnit, Evan Envi found the time.
I don’t know who helped him douse the interior of the new excavation with lighter fluid. Maybe he did it himself. But he did it.
I don’t know what he had to say or who he had to say it to for his neighbors and passersby to allow this to go down. But it was. A raging, healthy fire, rocketing feet into the sky from its own personal, man-made Hell on the property of Evan Harrison.
“This Mark Storm thing is really getting to him, hm?” Lani didn’t even try to hide her amusement as we made our loop at the bottom of the cul de sac, slowly approaching the front of Evan’s property.
She pulled the keys from the ignition as we parked in the driveway and within a second, the passenger door was open. I climbed out, looking at Evan with a glare. It wasn’t until then that we realized he wasn’t alone, but was standing alongside his neighbor, Pedro. Pedro was likely Evan’s age, in his mid or late twenties, and hailed from Los Mochis, Mexico. I don’t know how much English he spoke. I never heard him speak it. But he watched with crossed arms as Evan tossed belongings from boxes into the fire.
“EVAN!” I yelled, stomping from the driveway, across the grass.
“Stay back, Sadie!” Evan called, holding up a hand. “I’m all deep in this!”
“In what?!” I demanded. “You’re begging for a news crew to--”
“I need to burn everything that belongs to Noelle.” And he said it like it meant something. Like it justified the fucking scene he was causing.
“Hahahaha!” Lani closed her car door behind me and pointed toward the fire with a broad grin. “For the record, I support what he’s doing. I will totally help him burn Noelle-related shit.”
I glared at her, but it didn’t matter. Eagerly, Lani skipped past me, kicking her flip-flops off in the grass, pulling a tee shirt out of one of the cardboard boxes that sat before the fire. I wanted to shout something at her but I didn’t bother. She wasn’t the one I’d invested time-- and by default, money-- in lately. I made my way toward Evan, stopping just a foot short of him as he tossed a pair of socks into the fire.
“I assume you’re here to assist,” he said, bending down to reach into one of the boxes.
“You’re out of your mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s put this out.”
“When I’m finished,” Evan responded, sternly. He reached into a box, retrieving an older iPhone model. “And this is my iPhone which lost all WiFi connectivity! All my nudes of Noelle are on here, and I don’t need ‘em!”
He tossed the phone to the flames. Pedro promptly slapped the phone back into Evan’s arms. Evan took a deep breath and gave Pedro a nod.
“Good call, Pedro. That’s why you’re here.”
Tossing the phone into the yard, he reached into the box and tossed a tank top into the fire. It crackled louder… leapt higher. I ran my palms over my eyes and down my face. “Is this healthy prep?”
He kneeled down, picking an entire box up into his arms as he looked at me. “Physically? Inno.” He pivoted, heaving the box into the fire. The flames leapt up. Shot out. I took a defensive step back away from the pit and Evan stepped toward me. “But emotionally, yes! Yes, Sadie, this is good! I’m feeling better! I’m getting…” He heaved another box into the flames and Lani followed suit. ”Closure!”
“Ah. Great.” I took another step away from the fire.
From a larger box, Lani tugged at something. She sighed, struggling, and leaned over the edge of the box to pull it out. I turned my attention back to Evan, who was already looking right back at me.
“She’s gone. And she isn’t coming back. I accepted it, Sadie” he said, sweating. And I wasn’t sure if it was because of the fire or because of the amount of things he’d thrown away, but he was drenched in it.
“Yeah.” I nodded, trying to look past the flames toward his neighborhood-- but I couldn’t see it. Just fire and black moke.
“So what did you throw away?” I asked him.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Lani finally pulled whatever she was seeking out of the box, falling over in the process. A life-sized statue of Noelle lied on top of her, but with a mighty heave, Lani shoved it into the fire. I froze. I turned to Evan again.
“Why did you have that?!”
“Have what?” Evan asked, calmly.
“Why did you h…” I took a breath. “The st…” Why. What was I trying to accomplish. “I don’t know what I really saw.”
“That’s correct,” Evan agreed.
I continued with my earlier inquiry. “So what did you throw away?”
* * * * *
“OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH GODDDDDD.”
I couldn’t help my reaction.
There was nothing.
His house was empty. There were no couches. There was no television. There were no chairs. No tables. Aside from the lights that hung from the ceiling, there was absolutely nothing left inside the house.
“I need to be completely focused on the Pride Championship and all events leading up to it, Sadie,” Evan said, calmly. “And if I don’t make it through this Five-Way Fray, then I have no Pride Title to focus on. And I cannot focus when I am distracted by petty objects that remind me of Noelle Smith.” He nodded. “So. I got rid of them all.”
I blinked. “You got rid of everything.”
Evan frowned. “Untrue. My entire Cardcaptors collection remains in mint condition, Sadie, untouched, just like it was meant to--”
“I want to know how she did this to you,” I said, quietly.
“Who?” Evan asked, wide-eyed.
I took a breath. “Your opponent, goddamnit. One of them.”
Evan glared. “The only thing Molly’s done is disappoint me.”
“Noelle,” I said, firmly.
Evan closed his eyes. “All Noelle has done… is help me realize that the people that I thought were good, and nice, and PURE and stuff in this business…” He opened his eyes, glaring over at me. “They just friggin’ aren’t. She’s a piece of crap. She’s a groupie. And she’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And I got rid of everything that reminds me of her.”
“Including all your belongings.”
He shook his head, raising a finger into the air as he rounded the corner, walking up the stairs to the upper-level of the house. “Including all distractions.”
His footsteps faded until they disappeared upstairs. I glanced out the window, where Lani hosed down the flames by herself, still amused… still tickled by the events.
I turned, looking again at the place that was supposed to be my second home-- now bigger and emptier than ever.
SEPTEMBER 15, 2016
DENVER, CO
”Hi, Savannah.
You. You.
You’re the one that’s been the hardest to get to know, Sav. You’ve been the hardest to get a hold of. Aside from your shortcomings, you’ve been the hardest for me to get interested in. And I figure it’s only fair that I address you as a priority when I’m going through all this because while you’re a friggin’ SUUUUPERB talent in your own right, you’ve been kind of an afterthought in this whole Pride Championship hunt ever since we all clamored out there and staked our claim a week and a half-or-so back and-- and I mean, there are reasons for it, y’know?
Like… you did BASICALLY lose to the champ back at Above & Beyond. It wasn’t ambiguous. It wasn’t a valiant effort on your part thwarted by the man because of the buzzer-- because of the technical time limit. NO. My least-favorite wrestler of all-time, the Anatomical Anomaly herself, Fujiko Mine, BEEEEEAT YOU, fair and square! Clean! Decisively!
Savannah Taylor versus Fuji? We already know where this ends up because until the twenty-minute mark cut it short, we saw what was happening! You were a loser, Savannah! And you know what else?! Huh?! You wanna know what else?!
You aren’t silent on the Twitter because you’re too good for it and too busy for it! You aren’t silent to the interviewers and to the cameras on AfterBurn and every other news source out there because you have somethin’ wrong with your mouth! At least not yet you don’t. YOOOUUU, Savannah Taylor, don’t have anything to say, because you KNOW you don’t deserve to be in the Pride Title match! You went out there to run your mouth, not knowing that one-by-one, people from the roster more deserving than yourself would file out to throw their name in the hat.
And you know what? This-- this five-way-fray thing that every loser on the internet initially calls a ‘cluster’? YOU are to blame for it, Savannah, as much as my, once again, LEAST-FAVORITE WRESTLER OF ALL TIME, FUJIKO MINE, because once your illegitimate self waltzed out there, eeeeverybody assumed they had a shot at the title. And why the heck not, since Fuji was pretty much insistent on playing a game of musical chairs to determine the next champ anyway?
But unlike you, Sav, some deserving contenders made their way out there to take part in the hunt for the Pride Championship.
One of ‘em was Mark.
Ugh.
Now, while Mark Stork does indeed suck, I gotta correct myself in thinking that he was some geek off the street that couldn’t beat me. I mean, yeah, I MIGHT HAVE underestimated Mark Storm just a tad, but once I realized who this dude was, I gave it my all, y’know? Mark is a little bit more than the average flash of the pan that sticks around an establishment like this for a couple of months and then fades away. He’s a little tougher than the average vet might give him credit for. He’s quick. He’s intelligent. When it comes to this business he gets it, man. It’s admirable in a way. It’s like…
It’s… like…
...like, I could’ve won that match at any friggin’ second, but as I have stated, the referee was a Mark Storm fan and while the legalities of the whole situation are a bit unclear, I am still in negotiations to get that wiped from the history books… y’know… because of the controversy and all.
Mark Storm is still good though. Don’t get me wrong. I mean, he might’ve gotten me for a long two if a proper referee was officiating the match, y’know? Mmmmmight’a made me sweat a little bit but like… psshhh… that’s probably ‘bout it though.
Don’t let one three count fool you. Mark Storm still isn’t me. He might be good, but he still isn’t amazing.
For all he’s done, and for how many miles he’s traveled, Mark Storm still sucks.
On the other end of the spectrum, I am amazing, Savannah. Focus.
When it comes to my ex-girlfriend, Noelle, I’m superior to her in almost every way. Know what I mean? Like, the fans probably cheer her ironically or something. Out of pity or something because Noelle Smith is the scum of God’s green earth. She badmouths me every chance she gets, rubbing her potential-relationship-of-the-month in my face like some kind of unfed troll.
She posts the same friggin’ pictures on Twitter all day and tweets the same dudes over and over in some cry for attention in whatever it is while it’s cool-- ‘man respect Monday’ is what I think the new one is. And she’s so thirsty, Sav. She LOOKS for attention and she has been BEGGING ANY DUDE for a relationship ever since she split with me, whether it’s Dexter Jacobs, or the married Kerry Windsor, or Miles, or Sands, or someone, until finally, some dude that doesn’t even deserve to be mentioned hit it HALF AS WELL as the Chief did, and suddenly, Noelle Smith, everyman’s woman, settled on becoming the catchphrase-reciting groupie that she’s BEEN for the past year.
HOPE HE DOESN’T RUN OUT OF PHRASES! HOPE HE DOESN’T SEE WHAT YOU’RE REALLY LIKE WHEN ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE MAN AND HE’S FORCED TO SHED THE OUTERMOST LAYERS OF HIS--”
And at this time, I turned the camera off for a moment, because Evan Envi was fucking beside himself. It was uncomfortable. Seriously. I had to hit him a couple of times. Like. Goddamn.
Goddamn.
Anyway.
”Anyway.
She isn’t that great anyway, Sav. Y’know? Noelle held the Mid-Atlantic Championship, and she’s got experience against Fuji in the ring, but unlike you, Noelle is a completist. No matter how she did it, she took the championship in one way or another, and maaaaybe that means she could do it again.
I mean, probably not, because I’m in the equation, aha. But you can’t rule experience like that out! She could be the dark horse of this whole thing. Every bit of preparation and every ounce of confidence you had could mean NOTHING. And Noelle could be the one to emerge victorious from the Five-Way Fray. Because she prides herself on that kind of thing, y’know? She loves to capitalize on the emotion of other people. I watched her do it in Platinum Dynasty Wrestling before she ever came here. I watched her do it here. Noelle might claim I ignored her in our relationship but I never ignored a thing she did in this ring. Not once.
And I hope you didn’t either, Sav. For your sake.”
Evan took a deep breath at this point. The lens cap was still on. The audience would’ve never been able to see how red his face was. They’d have never seen the beads of sweat on his forehead. He continued, just a voice over a dark world.
”And then there’s Molly.”
He paused.
”There’s Molly…”
Evan was quiet for a long time. For a moment, I was ready to ask if I should stop filming. But before I had the chance, he spoke.
”I tried. I really did.
I didn’t think I was hurting her. I wanted to be there for Molly in a way that people weren’t there for me when I had finally found my identity in wrestling and when I was just looking for some footing-- for some real support from real wrestlers. It wasn’t so much the recognition was it was the guidance I was looking for. And I see that Molly has struggled so much harder and she’s taken so much longer to find that spark that drives a top competitor; a Pride Champion.
Who’s gonna lead her to the top? Annie?
Heh.
She was a familiar face. She was someone, admittedly, I wanted to cling to because she was familiar to me but I didn’t need Molly Reid. I didn’t need Molly Reid’s career or Molly Reid’s input to advance in FGA. Molly Reid needed Evan Envi to get to that next level. Maybe not exclusively Evan Envi, no, but by herself, she’s not gonna get to the Pride Title. With her current circle of friends, she’s not gonna get anywhere.
I wanted to make a difference, Savannah. I wanted to be the beacon of hope. I wanted to help.
But it was thrown in my face.
By Molly. By Noelle. Judging from your silence, by you. And then Mark Storm has an entirely different reason to laugh in my face.
But no one’s gonna laugh after I become the number one contender at Vertigo. No one’s gonna laugh when I’m making my way toward the Pride Championship. Toward Fujiko Mine. Toward history.
No one will remember Noelle’s stories. Or Molly’s complaints. Or Mark’s victory.
Or your silence.
They’ll just remember Envi.
As they should, Sav. As they should.”