|
Post by Star Stormz on Mar 31, 2022 23:38:16 GMT -5
PWS: APEX RIOT Tuesday, April 12th SAP ARENA AT SAN JOSE, CASingles MatchKallie Reznik vs. Devon RyderRP Deadline is Sunday, April 10, at 11:59pm 1 rp each, 300 word minimum, 5000 word maximum
|
|
|
Post by Devon Ryder on Apr 10, 2022 23:00:06 GMT -5
Tick…tick…tick…tick…
*A sigh. I sit in silent thought, immersed and overwhelmed by the apathy of solitude and drowning in a sea of lonely, anxious whispers. I am consumed by a lethargy of being, lost, my mind adrift inside an endless dark, uncertain void; a purgatory of the heart, with no escape in sight. Above, I hear the ticking. A stalwart, rhythmic melody punctuated by the sounds of my own breathing. I am still alive, and I can focus on this fact.*
Tick…tick…tick…
*An anchor. A way out. I can use this to be present, cling to something real. A tether in the darkness, to find my way back home. You know this procedure; what does she always tell you?*
Breathe in, Devon…close your eyes, focus, tell me five things you can hear.
*My breathing. Slow and steady, in and out, a constant airy metronome to prove I’m still alive. My heartbeat. A symbol of the panic. I can hear it, feel it racing…but I know I’m in control. I inhale, willing it to slow. It begins, but I am not free yet. Three more. A humming. The dreary, mechanical drone of the hotel’s air conditioner, vibrating within the walls. Two left. A mumble; there’s a family in the hall, having a conversation while they try to wrangle hyper kids. Last one…the clock.*
Tick…tick…tick…
*An insistence. Incessant, pounding out against the quiet, a steadfast messenger of the relentless march of time. It reached out, through my downward arc; it pulled me back from the brink of panic to be in reality again. Clearly, it wants my attention. I give it what it’s seeking. Slowly, moving in a syrup - as though every joint within my body were choked with thick molasses - I summon every ounce of will to force open my eyes…and turn them towards its face.*
1:56 PM
*A frown. My brow knits and I can feel creases furrow in my forehead as my sleepless, jet-lagged mind struggles to recover enough that I can process the importance of those numbers. I know that they should matter, I know I need to pay attention…but why? What have I forgotten? What is this clock telling me?*
1:57 PM
*A light. Understanding dawns, and the grinding cogwheels of my mind click abruptly into place. The darkness of ennui is flooded with light as the truth forces its way into my mind, firing every nerve and synapse until I can do nothing but focus on its splendid, shining brilliance.*
Desiree.
*A spark. Meu amor. The light of my life, my raison d’etre, the rock that anchors me through all my stormy seas. I was supposed to call her when she finished work today, we discussed it when I left…but I failed to account for the time difference between us. She’ll likely be leaving now; if memory serves, it should be nearly five o’clock. With this thought, my cognition finally clears, and as I come back to my body, it begins to move with purpose. I have an objective now. My angel is expecting me, and I must not let her down.*
1:58 PM
*A flame. The lethargy and angst which kept me paralyzed evaporate, instantly immolated in the swift ignition of my soul. I spring up to my feet, eyes alert and scanning the room in all directions for my cell phone. I find it by the bedside, lying on the nightstand where I’d left it after checking in. A dutiful soldier, awaiting its next orders. I snag the device and take a moment to collect myself, opening the curtains for some light. It occurs to me that Desi may wish to see the view, even though she could not be here.*
1:59 PM
*A tap. The screen flares to life, stabbing my squinted eyes as they struggle to adjust to the light. I blink through the pain, and it is quick to pass. I know Desiree should have left her office around 4:30 in Ottawa, and presuming I’ve converted between the time zones correctly, she should be home just around now. I am certain SHE would have called ME had I been late to our appointment…but I would prefer she see me more prepared. It’s not as if she’s never been present for the down moments, but I do know the strain they place on her. It will be hard enough - it IS hard enough - spending even this one day apart, and I need not add to her stress. She has more than enough to occupy her mind right now.*
2:00 PM
*A bell. She IS calling me, and now I am prepared. I exhale, my every doubt and demon melting away as I slide the button to answer and her gorgeous face fills my screen.*
“Oi, amor.”
*A smile. Her teeth, impossibly white and well-preserved as ever - in far better condition than mine, at least - framed beautifully by her full and pouty lips, stained a deep violet. My favourite shade. I linger for a moment here before her brown eyes call to me, and I find myself submersed, deep inside those mocha pools. She is an ocean in a woman, a poet of the soul; a wonderful and radiant human being…but a human being nonetheless. I know she dislikes it when I place her on a pedestal, and I must try to remind myself that I am worthy of being with her.*
“Devon? Hello? Can you hear me, babe?”
*A snap. I am back in reality, my daydream ended, gazing at the face of the woman who relit my sky. I smile. It feels sheepish, and I wonder if she can tell. She always can.*
"Yes, babe, sorry, I was just…"
*I search for the right words, then remember our covenant. Absolute candour.*
"...Admiring you."
*My cheeks heat up, and I am suddenly glad I cannot see my own reflection in the illuminated screen. I'm sure I must be redder than our flag just now. She simply laughs and shakes her head.*
"You're impossible, you know that?"
*The flush only deepens now, and it is MY turn to nod.*
“Yes, I know, I’m sorry. It’s been…difficult, being without you. I know, you don’t want us to become co-dependent, and I agree, but I don’t think it’s needy if I say I miss you terribly, and vastly prefer when you’re around to when you aren’t.”
*She smiles again.*
“Not at all, Devon. And you know I don’t mind it when you’re needy. I know how you can get lost in that big, beautiful mind sometimes. But you know I had to stay home, this conference is incredibly important. I’ll try to fly out tomorrow, but I can’t promise I’ll make it, okay?”
*A twitch. I try not to allow my expression to falter, but I know I cannot hide anything from her. As expected, she picks up on it.*
“Honey? Is everything okay?”
*A sigh. There’s no sense in hiding now, especially from my other half. I know why I have been gripped by such ennui today. Why I’ve felt so…lost, muddy, like I’m not really myself. It is a side-effect of fear. One of the many masks worn by my angst. The Canadian Hero may be fearless…but Devon Ryder never has been. The CHARACTER believes…because so, so often, the man cannot. I need to know if SHE still does. I need to know this isn’t true.*
“No, babe, it isn’t. If I may be honest…I’m nervous. More than that, actually; I’m terrified. I just don’t know if I can win tonight. I’ve been on such a downward trend, of late - barring last fortnight’s Riot, which was largely serendipity - that frankly…I’m wondering if I should even still be doing this. Do I really have what it takes to make it in this business? Do I deserve to BE a professional wrestler? I just don’t know if I ca-”
*She stops me, before I can get lost in myself again.*
“Devon, stop it. Just listen now, okay?”
*I do. Of course.*
“You are BRILLIANT, my darling. You are WONDERFUL. I love you so, so much…but you are human. And every human being fails. Everyone. Every human being doubts themselves, asks these questions, and worries that they’ll fuck it all up. You WILL fuck up…but that’s okay. It doesn’t make you lesser. You’ll still be perfect to me.”
*I smile, and a sharp exhale escapes my nose. A warmth blossoms in my chest - in my SOUL - like a glacier melting in the sun. She always has this effect on me.*
“I mean it, though. You are going to fail, Devon…but you will only lose if you let those failures stop you. Remember that even those we idolise have moments of self-doubt, okay, amor? Stephen King threw away the final draft of ‘Carrie’, he never thought it would be good enough. Ernest Hemingway took his own life because he didn’t think his writing was appreciated. You are a fantastic wrestler, Devon Ryder…you should only give it up if it doesn’t make you happy. Do you WANT to step away?”
*I feel my chest tighten. The very thought sends my ‘fight or flight’ response into overdrive. The answer comes with zero hesitation.*
“No.”
*I calm myself a moment, as the rage gives way to motivation.*
“This is who I am. It’s who I HAVE to be. This is all I have ever wanted in my life, and I would DIE before I gave it up…but that’s why it’s so demoralizing to face so many losses. To wonder if I really have the skills I thought I had, to be confronted with the harsh reality that I am NOT the greatest wrestler in the world. It makes it difficult to maintain any kind of positive self-talk. And I know I’ve been successful - one doesn’t often find themselves in the United Title picture unless they’ve done SOMETHING to deserve it - but it all just feels…flukey. Like I’ve stumbled into my success, rather than earning any of it.”
*It’s Desi’s turn to smirk now, and a chill runs through my spine. I’ve not seen this expression from her much, but I find that I enjoy it.*
“So earn it. You always say doing the work is most important, right? Do the work, Devon. Who are you wrestling tonight?”
“Kallie Reznik. She’s damn good, one of the best.”
*The smirk persists. The chill now runs through my soul, but it is only further fuel for the fire she is reigniting.*
“Then be better.”
*I frown. I want to lie, to tell her I’m okay, but…well. Absolute candour.*
“I…don’t know if I can.”
*Her eyes lock with mine. I am transfixed, as ever. She stares into my soul, the core of everything I am, and I can feel the lightning in her words. I know she means this.*
“I do. I believe in you, my king. Always.”
*She smirks again, and my lips mirror hers. Absolute candour. If she didn’t truly mean it, then it would not have been said. If Desiree believes in me, I know that I can do this. If Desiree believes in me…I’ll conquer the goddamn world.*
“Thank you, meu amor. I’m so, SO lucky to have you.”
*She shakes her head.*
“No, WE are lucky. The luckiest couple in the world.”
*A smile. I inhale deeply, and gaze out into the sunlit skyline.*
“Yes, my darling. I do believe we are.”
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
4:59 PM
*I inhale sharply. The Canadian Hero has been reawakened. I knew she would have that effect on me - she always does. I sit, gazing out the window at the gorgeous view of San Francisco bay, glinting in the afternoon twilight, and the Golden Gate Bridge beyond.*
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
*A beat, then I continue.*
“Truly, this has always been a beautiful country. It's a claim that’s often levelled at me, when I begin my criticism of this nation, and one that I cannot dispute. America is beautiful, and I suspect it always will be. From the natural vistas of the Rocky Mountains - which we also have, by the way, in Alberta and BC - to the synthetic skyscrapers that dot their city skylines, glittering against the night like a million clustered fireflies of glass and steel…which we can also rival, particularly in Toronto and Vancouver. But it is not a competition. I truly understand why some would praise this nation’s beauty. Hell, I even understand why some might call it paradise. But everything beautiful has a dark side, doesn’t it, Kallie? I think you’d know that well.”
*Another pause, I feel myself smirk.*
“Kallie Reznik. Believe me when I say, I’ve seen your work, and I’m impressed. You are, without exaggeration, one of the greatest professional wrestlers in the sport today, both in the ring AND on the mic. The only problem is…”
“I’m better.”
*A pause.*
“I’ve heard some of what you’ve said about me, Kallie. Claiming that I’m ‘too political’, or calling me a ‘Canadian supremacist’ - so I’ll spare you the politics. Tonight, my only goal is to redeem myself, to prove to the world that I am still the CANADIAN. HERO! The BEST goddamn professional wrestler in this company, and Kallie…I’m so, so sorry that you’re the one who’s in my way. Because you truly were fantastic, kid. You could have had a future in this business…but then, you met Devon Ryder.”
*He pauses again, and his smirk becomes a grin.*
“It’s a shame you’ll only be remembered as a footnote in my story.”
|
|