[OOC NOTE: continuation of
this one.]
Concern yourself not with what
you tried and failed in, but with what
it is still possible for you to do.
— Pope John XXIII
(the past: Miami, Florida)
March 31, 2017
"And I meant what I said. With all my heart."
"What?" He watched Kasey's brow furrow, holding his breath. "Max, I don't have any idea what you're-"
"Then I'll say it again." Max smiled, "I love you, Kasey..."
Those words hung between them, Kasey's blue eyes going wide before she stepped back into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face. A few seconds later he heard the water running in the sink again, realizing too late that he probably should have moved out of earshot instead of just slumping against the wall. Listening to her upchucking would have been better than the laughter he heard, barely muffled by the door. Full-bellied, gut-busting, the kind that good friends would usually share at the expense of someone else making a fool of themselves. Max sighed. Scuffed his Converse shoe against the hardwood, making it squeak. He knew - in his heart of hearts, in the back of his head, deep down inside - he knew. Kasey was in love with Akragth, was so completely wrapped up in him that she would never-
The silence was ominous. He didn't lift his head, didn't dare breathe. He'd been walking around on eggshells for weeks, trying to keep from hating himself, trying to keep the DWF locker room from learning the truth. He was here because Kasey was here. He'd signed the contract without even reviewing the fine print, without even reading it. They could pay him in leftover snackbar items and he'd be happy to just share a locker room with his favourite redhead again.
"Max?" Kasey reached out and touched his shoulder, "I-"
He bit his lip, resisting the urge to pull away. Instead he dragged in a deep breath and then turned his head to look at her, smiling warmly even though he wanted to scream in her face, even though he wanted to grab her by the arms and shake her like a ragdoll until all the stupid leaked out of her head. "Red, it's fine."
I heard you laughing, he wanted to say, shaking his head at the thought. It was easier to pretend he hadn't heard it the same way he'd been doing for years.
"Max, no. I didn't-"
"You seriously don't have to say anything. I wasn't really expecting some confession or you to throw yourself into my arms. I guess I had a bit too much to drink. So much for being the responsible adult," he forced a chuckle, "right?" He punched her lightly in the shoulder, shrugging. "Don't worry about it. In fact, just forget I even said anything." He studied her for a few seconds, watching that doe-eyed confusion morph into that familiar flare of defiance. "Oh shit," he cut in smoothly, fumbling to pull his cell phone from his pocket - his good hand was being as uncooperative as the other, shaking and he almost dropped it. Instead he swiped the screen, checking the time. "I've gotta get to the airport. Flying back to Ohio and…" he took a step back and then another and the next thing he knew his shoes were crunching on broken glass and he was halfway out the front door when her voice rang out, deafening.
"You stupid asshole! Why'd you have to go and make everything weird?!"
He didn't turn around. Didn't answer because what could he say that wasn't an excuse or an admission of guilt? Instead he walked on into the blinding sunshine, closing the door firmly behind himself. He was halfway across the lawn, trying his best not to limp or look like a spaz even though he could feel his bad hand T-rexing on its own. Shamefaced, his pulse pounded in his ears so loud that he didn't hear the door open and close, didn't hear the pitter-patter of little feet running to catch up with him until he reached his car, seeing her reflected in the glass.
"What?" He asked without turning around, holding his breath, stomach muscles clenched as though expecting a physical blow.
She said nothing, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around, pinning him against the side of the car before she reached up and grabbed the back of his neck. Before he could register what was happening, her lips were on his. As far as kisses went, it wasn't the greatest of all time. It probably wasn't even in the top thousand of all time.
"Kase," he whispered her name the second contact broke. Max reached for her but she staggered back, that doe-eyed look returning before she turned and fled back into the house, slamming the door behind herself. He stood there for a while, feeling the warmth and the minty tingle of the press of her lips fade away completely before he finally gave up and left, cursing his own stupidity.
"Hard work beats talent - I've been telling myself that for years. Hell, I even have that image in my Twitter header if I ever need a quick reminder. For the most part it's been proven time and time again and I know I don't have the track record to trot out to prove my point. Our esteemed champion was quick to point out that my words were hypocritical, that I was handed an opportunity out of thin air. It's funny how nitpicky we become in this business, isn't it? Splitting hairs as though having the last word is what matters."Max rolls his eyes.
"Do you think anyone remembers what I said the second they closed out of that video? We assign far too much value to these little debates. If you're easily swayed by popular opinion, by the careless little labels being tossed around, just hit the stop button. Right now. I don't need your judgment any more than I need your pity. The words said before meant nothing," his voice shakes, "absolutely nothing because I felt like the roof was gonna blow off the place when I had her locked in. I made her tap and I was so caught up in that moment, so fixated on her calling me a nobody that the count didn't even register - I didn't - couldn't tell I'd put myself in the most precarious position of them all." He huffs, shaking his head.
"Words can't hurt me now. I'm beyond that. You think this little ‘I'm gonna violate you' shtick is going to cause a ripple? Nonsense barely registers but you'll try and take this away from me anyhow."
He shrugs.
"Maybe they already have. I'm back to being the watcher on the wall. My own damned insecurities break me and I'm just so," he bites his lip, shaking his head.
"Richard - Dick - there's nothing you can take from me at Resurrection that matters. I have been cast down, cast out. Every inch hurts, I'm exhausted mentally and my muscles protest - everything's been stretched beyond the breaking point. War wounds mixed with self-inflicted harm. Another day at the office awaits." He flashes a sarcastic smile.
"Vacant confrontation awaits and what reason do I have to care? I put everything I had on the line over the last month and a half. My dream was right there within reach and it was pulled from my grasp. The loser gets a consolation prize in this unwitting, unknowing challenge. I get to open the show and Kasey-" he cuts himself off and sighs.
"Beating me, getting that three count legitimized her in the worst possible way. She thinks she's sovereign now - this makes her immortal. She raises those impotent fists to the sky and roars like an Amazon. She's a real piece of work, and the sad thing is that you people bought every lie she ever sold even though she's a worse actor than I could ever dream of being. I'd get angry with that, if it wasn't so fucking ludicrous. I was already over this drama before it ever began. Now it's just more motivation. Filler pages in my story. Getting pissed over that is like getting angry at the night following day - raging at shadows. Tilting at windmills. Barking at the moon. Sheer lunacy."Max blinks slowly, shaking his head.
"Someday, they'll scrape a body off the ground, and it'll be wearing my face. Not today. Oh no. You think you can take away what I earned? What I proved out there? No. You can make me wrestle in the damned parking lot before the doors even open and it won't matter because I looked into the abyss. I was right there." He slaps the back of his bad hand against the palm of his good one,
"I was. Someday I'll ride into Valhalla, shiny and chrome - I'll be immortalized too. Not today. Not here. Someday, I'll look back on this and laugh, wave my middle finger at this entire song and dance. I'll close the ratty cover on the Book of Max. It won't be now. I don't care if Richard Drake is the greatest wrestler of all time. I'm not going down without a fight. I will not taint her victory any more than I'd trivialize my greatest loss. You will not rip me up, and break me like a cheap reproduction of something that could have been so much better. Sorry, I'm not your fall guy. I'm not your victim. You had me pegged wrong from the very beginning, my friend."
Max smiles slowly.
"Don't worry. I learned how to turn adversity into advantage long ago. You can scream your gibberish out the window while you drive on by in your getaway car en-route to your next paid appearance. Nobody won't care."
He lets the words hang for a moment, letting that initial thought of a mistake dawn on the viewer. The slip was deliberate.
"At the end of the night I'll be one victory closer to getting where I belong. And you? Well, you'll still just be a Dick."
