S07E07
Nov 25, 2016 16:15:54 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2016 16:15:54 GMT -5
Off Camera
“Have any of you seen Meredith?” I ask, poking my head around the locker room door. The three of them, Annie, Katie, and their friend Kimmi Keister, all look at one another before pointing to the shower area.
“She’s just putting on her face paint,” Annie replies as she goes back to lacing up her boots. It’s the evening of her NKP Grand Championship match and I don’t want to bother her too much, but I need a favour from her friend. “And she like it better if you call her Becky…”
“But…” I start, looking puzzled as I get cut off.
Kimmi speaks up, “Just, like, play along.”
The three of them all stare at me, and I’ll admit, I’m feeling a little ganged up on here. “But she’s not Becky…” I try to plead my case.
“We know that,” Katie replies.
“‘Cause the real Becky wouldn’t have slept with you last night,” Annie takes a dig at my failed efforts to hit on the former LDFC student.
“Whoa,” I say, defensively, holding up my hands, “we fucked this morning too. But I just need to ask her for a favour.” I can feel their eyes on me. They can’t really judge me though, I’ve slept with them all as well. Kimmi as recently as the night before; she’s actually dating The Jester, apparently, and I’m not trying to figure out the rhyme or reason for why they both agreed to fuck me.
“Just be quick,” Annie says, “we’re tryna plan something here…”
“Gotcha,” I say, excusing myself to head around the corner to where The Jester is in the process of applying her face paint. The Harley Quinn style get up even almost, kinda, works for her. That or I’m just fantasizing like a fanboy. “Hey, Becky.”
“Dommy,” she replies in her French accent, smiling as she sees me in the mirror’s reflection.
“I won’t bother you much, I know you’ve got a match tonight…” she nods, knowing full well that she’s got to try and make Tommy Evans believe she’s Becky. That’s why she’s had some help learning the moves Becky used to do in LDFC, “…but I need a favour.”
“Of course,” she replies, sweetly.
“Just, before I tell you what it is: are you planning on seducing Mason tonight?” I ask, and she nods her head. Her pigtails bouncing up and down as she does so, and I’ve gotta bite my lip to stop myself from blurting out something more inappropriate than what I’m gonna ask. “Great, because I want to rib him. And I need you to help me with that.”
“What do you need?” she asks, looking up at me with those wide blue eyes. So sweet, so naive.
I can’t even think why I want to rib Mason, besides the fact he’s Evan’s cousin. And if I can’t get at Evan then I’ll get those closest to him. But this opportunity is too good to pass up. “What I need from you is just to try and kiss Mason tonight…” I pause, “…but before that, you’d need to give me a blowjob.”
“Dom!” comes the exclamation from the other side of the wall. So much for sound proofing.
“It’s for comedic purposes!” I defend myself, but The Jester speaks up before the other three can say anything else. “Ok…” she agrees, as she kneels down in front of me…
“Do we even know if he’s going to show up yet?” I ask to someone off camera, despite the fact it’s already recording. I’m not in front of my favourite white wall this time, instead I’m being forced to record this during the flight back to America, whilst on Molly’s private jet. “He said he wasn’t going to show up, or I’d be lucky if he gave me the time of day…” I throw up my arms, “…whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean!”
The inaudible banter from off camera does little to assuage my doubts, however, as I lean forward on the sofa. My hair isn’t styled this morning, and instead is just brushed down and to the side. My t-shirt has seen better days, but it has my face on it so it’s still great. And the holes in the knees of my jeans are a little wider than last time. “I’ll just pretend, shall I? Act as if Cannon isn’t going to walk right out through the Tony or Zero shaped holes in the wall…” I exclaim, pausing only to hear what someone says, “…oh come on, he walked in their shadows long enough, we know he can fit!”
“Fine,” I state, loudly, “I’m working under the assumption that Johnny Cannon is going to show up on Saturday night. And the people of Rhode Island are going to get the advertised main event. And what a match it’s going to be…” I boast, proudly, “…but how did we get here? You and me, Johnny, why are our paths finally crossing now?”
“Was it the tweet?” I pause, scrolling through my cell phone to find the tweet I sent in jest one time.
The cell phone gets slid back into my pants pocket as I continue talking. “Because, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t being entirely serious then. You see, Johnny, I’ve been in your position. Two years ago, before you signed your contract, back when I was in the good graces of FGA management. Back when I could actually get a World title shot…” I shrug, “…before we had a World champion who’d walk out on the company – get fired for punching a TV executive, yes! But not quit.”
“Before I got excluded from Lethal Lottery tournaments. Before I had to watch four people I’ve beaten in my six matches back from injury compete for the top prize in this company. Back at All Star Showdown 2014, when Jimmy Page became FGA World Champion without pinning me–” I won’t bother to mention Dan Herrera pinned me, thus making this slightly different than Cannon’s situation, “–so I know what you’re going through. Having that belt taken away from you. In the hands of a pretender, right?”
“Cordy never beat you. Nobody beat you,” I stress the word, “but we won’t get into that argument about whether you lost or got beat. Just tell me, Johnny, do you have a knot in your stomach? Does it pain you when you think about Cordy walking around with your title belt?”
“I bet it does…”
“Because it sure as hell hurt me to watch Jimmy Page hold that belt back then. The difference is I got my rematch. It wasn’t tournament season, and I didn’t have to take a backseat right away. But then he beat me…” I sigh, “…and I was back to square one. All my hardwork of going up Chris Q – wasted. Fighting to make that a World title – meaningless. Winning the Gold Rush Rumble for a second year in a row – for nothing. Because somebody else held my title…”
“And I’ve barely had a sniff at it since then, Johnny.” I state, matter-of-factly. “So if you’re using me as precedence than buckle up, you’re in for a long ride. Then again, maybe it’s not the tweet. Maybe the FGA management isn’t setting me up for a pummelling by making me face the pissed off former champion. Maybe, just maybe, this is because of your affiliation to The King’s Court…” I pause for a moment, a perplexed expression on my face, “…is that still a thing? You and the Usual Suspects now, and my recently smashing another iPad over the head of Chris Tryon.”
“And somebody wants to see how I handle myself against the higher ups in the pecking order. I mean, we all know I can handle Tryon.” I chuckle, running a hand down my stubbled jaw as I keep laughing, “In and out of the ring, he’s no match for me. And, if I do say so myself, I was doing fairly well against Tony the other week. Before those two decided to get involved and cause the DQ.”
“Lord knows they couldn’t let me get a clean win, right?” I ask, sarcastically.
“Then you’re the last member of the King’s Court worth a damn I’m yet to beat. And it’s sink or swim for me now; I can get the clean sweep and be the man to crush The King’s Court. To do what Ruby Tyler set out to do – and failed. To do what everybody you’ve faced since March has tried to do – and failed!” I gesticulate for emphasis, “Because that unpinned streak of yours is getting longer by the day, and it’ll keep growing if you don’t bother showing up on Saturday, Johnny. Otherwise I’m going to have to try and be the man to end it.”
“To do the unthinkable and pin Johnny Cannon.”
“But hey, I’m aiming high this week!” I exclaim, gleefully. “Hell, I’m being optimistic in thinking you’ll make it to the arena, why not go all out on my dreams?! Screw it, I won’t even pin you on Saturday, Johnny. I’ll make you tap, how does that sound?”
I pause, “Unlikely, right?”
“That’s what I get for stealing a Ryan LeCavalier line…” I shake my head in dismay, “…even she’s not above being plagiarized…” I clear my throat to try and divert attention away from my throwback to a recent rant Ryan had about being suspended from HKW, claiming ‘even she’ wasn’t above being punished for breaking a camera. I may have mocked her for that. “…hollow threats are all the rage now, though. I mean we’ve got Izzy Anders running around claiming she’s going to burn the place to the ground.”
“I mean, it’s a nice, if not unwelcome, throwback to The Murder circa 2013 when we razed the ground and rebuilt FGA in our image. But after The Infinite Empire…” I tilt my head from side to side, “…I mean, it’s literally been done. And I’m not even misusing the word ‘literally’ there! They burned the fucking ring! We had to evacuate the building!”
“But don’t let history get in the way,” I roll my eyes, running a hand through my hair as I continue, “for fuck’s sake. Where was I?”
More inaudible noise from off camera as Molly tells me what I was saying before I got distracted.
“…oh yeah, there’s another alternative, Johnny. And bear with me, because this is a long shot.”
“Like the Eagles winning the Superbowl kind of long shot–” I manage to say before a cushion is thrown from off camera, which hits me in the face. I grimace and inhale sharply, “–I was kidding!”
“Because this scenario is actually plausible.”
“What if,” I start, “this match is an unofficial number one contender’s match? What if Lenny and the boys are seeing which one of us should face Cordy at Final Frontier. I mean, you never got beaten for the title. You’re due a rematch, right? And now Zero’s out the way, now Tony left, now Hardaway’s gone…” there’s that puzzled look again, “…wait, that last one has no bearing on this situation. But what if they want to see if you have what it takes to face the new FGA World Champion.”
“By the way, congrats, Cordy!” I give the camera a thumbs up, and exceedingly cheesy grin so she knows I’m not entirely serious.
“And who better to make you earn it than a former two-time FGA World Champion? And the man who took so many shots at you about your claims of main eventing more Vertigos this year than anyone – I think we’re still tied, by the way. Or the man who threw that shade about how quickly you became FGA World Champion – seven months slower than I did!” I throw my hands up into the air again, “Or the man who was the first and last person to beat Cordy Stevenson one-on-one. And, FYI, I’ll also be the next person to beat Cordy Stevenson. On my way to becoming a three-time FGA World Champion…”
“Because something got in the way of my Grand Slam dream…” I grumble, before sighing.
“Side tracked, again!” I exclaim, glaring at Annie as she sits off camera; she’s playing coy, even if the viewers can’t see it.
“But it’s fine. If he shows up this weekend, I’ll beat Johnny Cannon like I beat the rest of his crew. Like I beat the four people who had a chance to become the FGA World Champion on the last show. Like I beat everybody who’s put in front of me. So when the FGA Triple Crown winner takes on the EXODUS Pro Triple Crown winner–” I put up a hand, “–no, no. I won’t throw that in your face. God knows you’re sick of hearing about that hellhole, just like I am.”
“But, Johnny, you better believe if there’s a chance – even the slightest chance – that this last scenario is true. If this is to see who’ll face Cordy at Final Frontier for the FGA World Championship, then you’re getting one hundred percent Tenacious Little Bastard in that ring on Saturday night. If they want to distract me from achieving the Grand Slam, then it’s a decent alternative. And when I’ve beaten you, when you’re licking your wounds like Chris and Jason are, and I’m the one challenging to become World Champion…”
“If Lenny is actually forgiving me for all the shit I’ve pulled in the past…”
“And maybe Cordy can learn to include my name in the list of people of represent what FGA stands for…” I pause, “…instead of people who quit. So this company that I helped build, that I carried on my shoulders when all those around us tried to knock us down. This company that I’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears for. That I’ve worked tirelessly for, for nearly four goddamn years now…” my voice shakes as I speak, so I try to recompose myself, “…will finally, once again, recognise the fact that Harter Hits Harder!” I state as the camera stops recording, bringing the scene to an end.
Off Camera
“Hey mom,” I say as the Facetime call starts up, “Happy Thanksgiving.” I smile coyly, knowing I had promised to spend the holiday with her. But that’s before I got cast in A Clockwork Knight and knew I’d have to be in England for filming.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she replies whilst struggling to get into shot of her iPad camera. “And thanks for calling me, I know you’re busy.”
“It’s no problem,” I lie, having snuck away from my friends in the other room to make the call; instead of a hotel room, I decided to rent a cottage for my few weeks over here. It’s a bit more private, and I’m away from prying eyes. Plus it allows me to host Thanksgiving for Brytain, Syn, Annie, Molly, and Katie without being too cramped.
“Well I appreciate it,” my mom says with a wide smile on her face. There’s a bit of noise behind her, something that sounds like crashing.
“Everything ok?” I ask.
“Oh, that…” she turns her head, “…Penny, be a dear and turn that down, please.”
“Penny? Who’s Penny?” I ask.
“Not that one, the one next to it,” my mom says without answering my question.
“Mom,” I call out, “who’s Penny?”
“Oh, she’s…” my mom starts, before getting interrupted.
“Hi Dom!” exclaims the moustached man as he muscles into shot, waving excitedly as he sips from a beer in his other hand.
“Johnny [Zellor]…” I try my hardest not to sound surprised, but it gets worse as I recognise a couple of the Denver Divas lingerie football players in the background. “…I didn’t know you were spending the holiday together.”
“I invited Elizabeth–” they’re on a first name basis?! “–over to watch the game against Miami tomorrow night, but we thought we’d celebrate together today too.” He says casually, before kissing my mom on the cheek. She blushes, and I’m speechless. Literally speechless! “I hope that’s alright.”
“Fine!” I say without a hint of believability behind my words, “as long as she’s not alone. But…” I stammer, “…I didn’t even know you two were friends.”
“It’s a long story,” my mom starts, “but we hit it off last month, after…” there’s an awkward pause; both of them blush slightly as my mom continues in a hushed tone so none of the Divas overhear, “…you know what. And we’ve stayed in touch.”
“Plus your mom cooks a better turkey than I’ve eaten in years,” Johnny brags, squeezing my mom’s shoulder with one hand. Get your hands off her! I think, but don’t say. Instead I just smile.
“Yeah she does…” I reply, half-heartedly. “…well I won’t keep you two from your party, or whatever you’re having there. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, honey!” my mom says before the recording cuts out. The iPad gets put down on the bed next to me as I try to let things sink in; I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but what if they’re fucking? What if they’re dating? And if they are, what if they keep dating, and get engaged? Mom’s divorce came through, she’s free and single now. And Johnny hasn’t been married in years. What if they end up together … and Annie becomes my step-sister…
I’ve always wanted to fuck my step-sister…
No, Dom, focus! Do I tell Annie what I suspect? Or will she figure it out on her own?
Damn it, why do I have to make decisions?
“Have any of you seen Meredith?” I ask, poking my head around the locker room door. The three of them, Annie, Katie, and their friend Kimmi Keister, all look at one another before pointing to the shower area.
“She’s just putting on her face paint,” Annie replies as she goes back to lacing up her boots. It’s the evening of her NKP Grand Championship match and I don’t want to bother her too much, but I need a favour from her friend. “And she like it better if you call her Becky…”
“But…” I start, looking puzzled as I get cut off.
Kimmi speaks up, “Just, like, play along.”
The three of them all stare at me, and I’ll admit, I’m feeling a little ganged up on here. “But she’s not Becky…” I try to plead my case.
“We know that,” Katie replies.
“‘Cause the real Becky wouldn’t have slept with you last night,” Annie takes a dig at my failed efforts to hit on the former LDFC student.
“Whoa,” I say, defensively, holding up my hands, “we fucked this morning too. But I just need to ask her for a favour.” I can feel their eyes on me. They can’t really judge me though, I’ve slept with them all as well. Kimmi as recently as the night before; she’s actually dating The Jester, apparently, and I’m not trying to figure out the rhyme or reason for why they both agreed to fuck me.
“Just be quick,” Annie says, “we’re tryna plan something here…”
“Gotcha,” I say, excusing myself to head around the corner to where The Jester is in the process of applying her face paint. The Harley Quinn style get up even almost, kinda, works for her. That or I’m just fantasizing like a fanboy. “Hey, Becky.”
“Dommy,” she replies in her French accent, smiling as she sees me in the mirror’s reflection.
“I won’t bother you much, I know you’ve got a match tonight…” she nods, knowing full well that she’s got to try and make Tommy Evans believe she’s Becky. That’s why she’s had some help learning the moves Becky used to do in LDFC, “…but I need a favour.”
“Of course,” she replies, sweetly.
“Just, before I tell you what it is: are you planning on seducing Mason tonight?” I ask, and she nods her head. Her pigtails bouncing up and down as she does so, and I’ve gotta bite my lip to stop myself from blurting out something more inappropriate than what I’m gonna ask. “Great, because I want to rib him. And I need you to help me with that.”
“What do you need?” she asks, looking up at me with those wide blue eyes. So sweet, so naive.
I can’t even think why I want to rib Mason, besides the fact he’s Evan’s cousin. And if I can’t get at Evan then I’ll get those closest to him. But this opportunity is too good to pass up. “What I need from you is just to try and kiss Mason tonight…” I pause, “…but before that, you’d need to give me a blowjob.”
“Dom!” comes the exclamation from the other side of the wall. So much for sound proofing.
“It’s for comedic purposes!” I defend myself, but The Jester speaks up before the other three can say anything else. “Ok…” she agrees, as she kneels down in front of me…
[REC]
“Do we even know if he’s going to show up yet?” I ask to someone off camera, despite the fact it’s already recording. I’m not in front of my favourite white wall this time, instead I’m being forced to record this during the flight back to America, whilst on Molly’s private jet. “He said he wasn’t going to show up, or I’d be lucky if he gave me the time of day…” I throw up my arms, “…whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean!”
The inaudible banter from off camera does little to assuage my doubts, however, as I lean forward on the sofa. My hair isn’t styled this morning, and instead is just brushed down and to the side. My t-shirt has seen better days, but it has my face on it so it’s still great. And the holes in the knees of my jeans are a little wider than last time. “I’ll just pretend, shall I? Act as if Cannon isn’t going to walk right out through the Tony or Zero shaped holes in the wall…” I exclaim, pausing only to hear what someone says, “…oh come on, he walked in their shadows long enough, we know he can fit!”
“Fine,” I state, loudly, “I’m working under the assumption that Johnny Cannon is going to show up on Saturday night. And the people of Rhode Island are going to get the advertised main event. And what a match it’s going to be…” I boast, proudly, “…but how did we get here? You and me, Johnny, why are our paths finally crossing now?”
“Was it the tweet?” I pause, scrolling through my cell phone to find the tweet I sent in jest one time.
The cell phone gets slid back into my pants pocket as I continue talking. “Because, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t being entirely serious then. You see, Johnny, I’ve been in your position. Two years ago, before you signed your contract, back when I was in the good graces of FGA management. Back when I could actually get a World title shot…” I shrug, “…before we had a World champion who’d walk out on the company – get fired for punching a TV executive, yes! But not quit.”
“Before I got excluded from Lethal Lottery tournaments. Before I had to watch four people I’ve beaten in my six matches back from injury compete for the top prize in this company. Back at All Star Showdown 2014, when Jimmy Page became FGA World Champion without pinning me–” I won’t bother to mention Dan Herrera pinned me, thus making this slightly different than Cannon’s situation, “–so I know what you’re going through. Having that belt taken away from you. In the hands of a pretender, right?”
“Cordy never beat you. Nobody beat you,” I stress the word, “but we won’t get into that argument about whether you lost or got beat. Just tell me, Johnny, do you have a knot in your stomach? Does it pain you when you think about Cordy walking around with your title belt?”
“I bet it does…”
“Because it sure as hell hurt me to watch Jimmy Page hold that belt back then. The difference is I got my rematch. It wasn’t tournament season, and I didn’t have to take a backseat right away. But then he beat me…” I sigh, “…and I was back to square one. All my hardwork of going up Chris Q – wasted. Fighting to make that a World title – meaningless. Winning the Gold Rush Rumble for a second year in a row – for nothing. Because somebody else held my title…”
“And I’ve barely had a sniff at it since then, Johnny.” I state, matter-of-factly. “So if you’re using me as precedence than buckle up, you’re in for a long ride. Then again, maybe it’s not the tweet. Maybe the FGA management isn’t setting me up for a pummelling by making me face the pissed off former champion. Maybe, just maybe, this is because of your affiliation to The King’s Court…” I pause for a moment, a perplexed expression on my face, “…is that still a thing? You and the Usual Suspects now, and my recently smashing another iPad over the head of Chris Tryon.”
“And somebody wants to see how I handle myself against the higher ups in the pecking order. I mean, we all know I can handle Tryon.” I chuckle, running a hand down my stubbled jaw as I keep laughing, “In and out of the ring, he’s no match for me. And, if I do say so myself, I was doing fairly well against Tony the other week. Before those two decided to get involved and cause the DQ.”
“Lord knows they couldn’t let me get a clean win, right?” I ask, sarcastically.
“Then you’re the last member of the King’s Court worth a damn I’m yet to beat. And it’s sink or swim for me now; I can get the clean sweep and be the man to crush The King’s Court. To do what Ruby Tyler set out to do – and failed. To do what everybody you’ve faced since March has tried to do – and failed!” I gesticulate for emphasis, “Because that unpinned streak of yours is getting longer by the day, and it’ll keep growing if you don’t bother showing up on Saturday, Johnny. Otherwise I’m going to have to try and be the man to end it.”
“To do the unthinkable and pin Johnny Cannon.”
“But hey, I’m aiming high this week!” I exclaim, gleefully. “Hell, I’m being optimistic in thinking you’ll make it to the arena, why not go all out on my dreams?! Screw it, I won’t even pin you on Saturday, Johnny. I’ll make you tap, how does that sound?”
I pause, “Unlikely, right?”
“That’s what I get for stealing a Ryan LeCavalier line…” I shake my head in dismay, “…even she’s not above being plagiarized…” I clear my throat to try and divert attention away from my throwback to a recent rant Ryan had about being suspended from HKW, claiming ‘even she’ wasn’t above being punished for breaking a camera. I may have mocked her for that. “…hollow threats are all the rage now, though. I mean we’ve got Izzy Anders running around claiming she’s going to burn the place to the ground.”
“I mean, it’s a nice, if not unwelcome, throwback to The Murder circa 2013 when we razed the ground and rebuilt FGA in our image. But after The Infinite Empire…” I tilt my head from side to side, “…I mean, it’s literally been done. And I’m not even misusing the word ‘literally’ there! They burned the fucking ring! We had to evacuate the building!”
“But don’t let history get in the way,” I roll my eyes, running a hand through my hair as I continue, “for fuck’s sake. Where was I?”
More inaudible noise from off camera as Molly tells me what I was saying before I got distracted.
“…oh yeah, there’s another alternative, Johnny. And bear with me, because this is a long shot.”
“Like the Eagles winning the Superbowl kind of long shot–” I manage to say before a cushion is thrown from off camera, which hits me in the face. I grimace and inhale sharply, “–I was kidding!”
“Because this scenario is actually plausible.”
“What if,” I start, “this match is an unofficial number one contender’s match? What if Lenny and the boys are seeing which one of us should face Cordy at Final Frontier. I mean, you never got beaten for the title. You’re due a rematch, right? And now Zero’s out the way, now Tony left, now Hardaway’s gone…” there’s that puzzled look again, “…wait, that last one has no bearing on this situation. But what if they want to see if you have what it takes to face the new FGA World Champion.”
“By the way, congrats, Cordy!” I give the camera a thumbs up, and exceedingly cheesy grin so she knows I’m not entirely serious.
“And who better to make you earn it than a former two-time FGA World Champion? And the man who took so many shots at you about your claims of main eventing more Vertigos this year than anyone – I think we’re still tied, by the way. Or the man who threw that shade about how quickly you became FGA World Champion – seven months slower than I did!” I throw my hands up into the air again, “Or the man who was the first and last person to beat Cordy Stevenson one-on-one. And, FYI, I’ll also be the next person to beat Cordy Stevenson. On my way to becoming a three-time FGA World Champion…”
“Because something got in the way of my Grand Slam dream…” I grumble, before sighing.
“Side tracked, again!” I exclaim, glaring at Annie as she sits off camera; she’s playing coy, even if the viewers can’t see it.
“But it’s fine. If he shows up this weekend, I’ll beat Johnny Cannon like I beat the rest of his crew. Like I beat the four people who had a chance to become the FGA World Champion on the last show. Like I beat everybody who’s put in front of me. So when the FGA Triple Crown winner takes on the EXODUS Pro Triple Crown winner–” I put up a hand, “–no, no. I won’t throw that in your face. God knows you’re sick of hearing about that hellhole, just like I am.”
“But, Johnny, you better believe if there’s a chance – even the slightest chance – that this last scenario is true. If this is to see who’ll face Cordy at Final Frontier for the FGA World Championship, then you’re getting one hundred percent Tenacious Little Bastard in that ring on Saturday night. If they want to distract me from achieving the Grand Slam, then it’s a decent alternative. And when I’ve beaten you, when you’re licking your wounds like Chris and Jason are, and I’m the one challenging to become World Champion…”
“If Lenny is actually forgiving me for all the shit I’ve pulled in the past…”
“And maybe Cordy can learn to include my name in the list of people of represent what FGA stands for…” I pause, “…instead of people who quit. So this company that I helped build, that I carried on my shoulders when all those around us tried to knock us down. This company that I’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears for. That I’ve worked tirelessly for, for nearly four goddamn years now…” my voice shakes as I speak, so I try to recompose myself, “…will finally, once again, recognise the fact that Harter Hits Harder!” I state as the camera stops recording, bringing the scene to an end.
Off Camera
“Hey mom,” I say as the Facetime call starts up, “Happy Thanksgiving.” I smile coyly, knowing I had promised to spend the holiday with her. But that’s before I got cast in A Clockwork Knight and knew I’d have to be in England for filming.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she replies whilst struggling to get into shot of her iPad camera. “And thanks for calling me, I know you’re busy.”
“It’s no problem,” I lie, having snuck away from my friends in the other room to make the call; instead of a hotel room, I decided to rent a cottage for my few weeks over here. It’s a bit more private, and I’m away from prying eyes. Plus it allows me to host Thanksgiving for Brytain, Syn, Annie, Molly, and Katie without being too cramped.
“Well I appreciate it,” my mom says with a wide smile on her face. There’s a bit of noise behind her, something that sounds like crashing.
“Everything ok?” I ask.
“Oh, that…” she turns her head, “…Penny, be a dear and turn that down, please.”
“Penny? Who’s Penny?” I ask.
“Not that one, the one next to it,” my mom says without answering my question.
“Mom,” I call out, “who’s Penny?”
“Oh, she’s…” my mom starts, before getting interrupted.
“Hi Dom!” exclaims the moustached man as he muscles into shot, waving excitedly as he sips from a beer in his other hand.
“Johnny [Zellor]…” I try my hardest not to sound surprised, but it gets worse as I recognise a couple of the Denver Divas lingerie football players in the background. “…I didn’t know you were spending the holiday together.”
“I invited Elizabeth–” they’re on a first name basis?! “–over to watch the game against Miami tomorrow night, but we thought we’d celebrate together today too.” He says casually, before kissing my mom on the cheek. She blushes, and I’m speechless. Literally speechless! “I hope that’s alright.”
“Fine!” I say without a hint of believability behind my words, “as long as she’s not alone. But…” I stammer, “…I didn’t even know you two were friends.”
“It’s a long story,” my mom starts, “but we hit it off last month, after…” there’s an awkward pause; both of them blush slightly as my mom continues in a hushed tone so none of the Divas overhear, “…you know what. And we’ve stayed in touch.”
“Plus your mom cooks a better turkey than I’ve eaten in years,” Johnny brags, squeezing my mom’s shoulder with one hand. Get your hands off her! I think, but don’t say. Instead I just smile.
“Yeah she does…” I reply, half-heartedly. “…well I won’t keep you two from your party, or whatever you’re having there. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye, honey!” my mom says before the recording cuts out. The iPad gets put down on the bed next to me as I try to let things sink in; I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but what if they’re fucking? What if they’re dating? And if they are, what if they keep dating, and get engaged? Mom’s divorce came through, she’s free and single now. And Johnny hasn’t been married in years. What if they end up together … and Annie becomes my step-sister…
I’ve always wanted to fuck my step-sister…
No, Dom, focus! Do I tell Annie what I suspect? Or will she figure it out on her own?
Damn it, why do I have to make decisions?