IWS #2

 
Ironically, her flight to Texas had been changed last-minute and she'd ended up having to push travel plans back a day, making it a little tight to show up for Monday's booking in Millennium. That was the least of her concerns now. Given the things Vinny had been posting on Twitter, she knew she had to tell Nick the truth as soon as possible. Finding herself on his doorstep before nightfall, she cursed the damn overbooked airlines and the weather and everything else that had led to her showing up late— probably too late to make a difference now. On the cab ride over she'd had lots of time to replay the exchange between her so-called best friend (Vinny Martel), and her boyfriend (Nick Sanders), on Twitter. It was ugly, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.
 
Kasey lifted her hand to knock on the trailer's screen door, shifting nervously from one foot to another. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he'd slam the door in her face.
 
It was a few moments before he answered, and, once his eyes fell upon her, he felt his heart rise in his throat. He backed into the door and held the screen door open for her to enter. He looked so good she felt the irrational urge to jump into those strong arms and the only thing keeping her grounded was the fear of rejection.
 
"Nick," she was already talking as she stepped over the threshold, her mouth trying to outrace her pulse. "I tried to get here sooner but I got bumped from two flights and I wasn't gonna just drive here because my car is a stupid piece of shit and I need to talk to you and now it's even worse and...." she had to take a breath, staring up at him as though she was expecting him to pick her up and toss her back outside. "It's not what you think. I swear to God it's not, okay?"
 
He inhaled sharply and took a seat atop the armrest of the sofa. Motioning for her to sit, despite knowing her to be an anxious pacer, he devoted his full attention to her. Obviously, a part of him was prepared for the worst—but those words, not what you think, gave way to a feeling of relief and regret. Had he made a fuss over nothing? With everything he had had to deal with with the ex-wife months ago he had just doubled down on being more attentive. He shook his head to wipe the thoughts from his mind, his hair fluffing around his large head as if were a dainty petticoat.
 
"Breathe," he said in hopes of helping her calm. His voice was as tender as ever—a manly depth with a wholesome, gentleness—like syrup over hot cakes. "—you don't have to freak out." But was he going to freak out? He hoped not. Despite his projected goofiness for the sake of social media, Nick had always prided himself on being the understanding one of the family.
 
She did as he said, taking a big gulp of air and trying to calm herself. It didn't help. "I'm trying. I...just...I don't know why he's being such a troll now and it's all my fault and..." she was wringing her hands before finally joining him on the sofa, sitting on her hands so she stopped spazzing out. "I did something stupid. And I know you're gonna be like 'what else is new' but..."
 
Perhaps his brain had simply not caught up to the rest of him. He was smiling somewhere behind that look of concern. He spun in his seat and put a comforting hand atop her shoulder. He disliked her falling apart at the seams. "It's okay," he said reassuringly. "Whatever it was I'm not gonna bite your head off."
 
How could he? So much time apart would naturally have given way to urges. Humans had an undying need for companionship.
 
Admittedly, he knew he hadn't been the ideal partner either. His face flushed with the color of embarrassment and sadness as he thought of how unapologetically disinterested he must have seemed to her. Always the class clown, but never the kind-hearted young man he was now. He brushed hair from her eyes and smiled, weakly, but enough to indent his cheeks with those dimples that erased the hard lines of age from his face and left him all but a shaggy haired boy in a man's body.
 
"No...but... maybe you should," her voice wavered but she met his eyes without tearing up. "Because I crashed at Vinny's place..." before he could say anything, she shook her head to dispel any bad thoughts, "and like he slept on the couch and I took his bed because he was being a perfect gentleman." There was bitterness in that last word, a wry twist of her lips. "And then like an absolute tard, I kissed him. And like... he kissed me back and I think he totally..." she sighed. "That was it. Just kissing." She closed her eyes, bowing her head as though waiting for him to explode or even to dissolve into that quiet fury like Akragth had when she'd told him about the night Max Ironside had confessed that he was in love with her. "It just happened. I was overtired, and it was just random and impulsive and... I... wasn't thinking." The last part was mumbled almost so low he couldn't hear.
 
"Is that all?" he almost chuckled but chose to stifle it. The sheepish smile was impossible to erase along with that sense of relief that washed over him. "A kiss is—a kiss—" Now he did laugh, though it was towards himself and the absolute ass he must have made himself to be. "But." His lips pressed together in a thin line, and he smashed them between his teeth. Words were failing him.
 
"Do you," he hesitated once again to carefully collect without seeming crude. "—like him like that?" A fair question he thought given their friendship. Sometimes that sort of thing did happen. "Cause if you do—I mean—I get it." Wasn't he still holding on to ghosts of lovers past? "—just hope you'll tell me before—jumping in feet first."
 
She sighed, looking away. "What's the easiest answer? I mean... there are people you're fond of, right? Skeletons in the closet you keep hidden even when it's almost Halloween." Kasey laughed, shaking her head. "I like him. Yeah. There are feelings, for sure but right now the one I feel strongest is disappointment. I mean, I've known him forever. He's always been the only person in my life I know I could always trust and he pretty much just shit all over that with goading you like he did. And I get it. Really..." she rested her hand on Nick's knee. "And it's like asking if I have feelings for Landon or Matt or anyone else who's been in my life for any amount of time. I feel happy when I see them and sad when I don't and..."
 
She bit her lip, her red hair falling over her eyes as she shook her head vehemently again. "No. It's not like... I mean, I wish you lived closer. Or I did. Or maybe I should just get the hell out of Chicago and... I've got that job in Indianapolis now but it's not a weekly thing and it's a bit more low-key, so I could... if you wanted..." she kept trailing off, her voice growing fainter by the moment. "You're the one I wanna be with, Nick. You and only you but I won't be mad if you want me to go away or take a break or something because I kinda deserve that right now."
 
Did he want that? It didn't feel right to say yes or no. Maybe they did need a bit of a break—but wasn't opposite jobs, sides of the world, constant movement away from one another a break in itself?
 
"Your ghosts are fine—I have ghosts too," he replied. He wrapped her in his arms and eased down beside her on the cushion. "Distance sucks, and it is the only thing we've known. That's on me. I should have respected your career more—been there always. Mine hasn't been anything to shake a stick at."
 
The words just rolled like waves crashing the murky, gulf coast—dirtier than he liked, but pretty to anyone with a bit of an eye for nature. "Move in with me—or we'll get a place. I don't want to be the absent boyfriend anymore and give you a reason to seek affection from someone else. I wanna be the one that you say has always been there for you—that you can trust."
 
Kasey's breath caught on a gasp and then a joyous giggle escaped her lips as she melted in against him. "I want that more than anything." To be wanted—to be needed? She'd been chasing that for so long it was hard to believe he'd actually said it. "Are...you sure?" Tilting her head against his shoulder, she looked up at him, at that handsome face that did nothing to show off the big heart beating in his chest. "I don't wanna... don't feel like you have to just because you think I'm gonna..." she hesitated before putting that doubt into words. "I didn't bail when all that drama with her happened. You're my Moosifer and I'm so not going anywhere anytime soon."
 
"You didn't bail at all," he repeated as he held her tightly as if he was afraid she'd float away if he loosened his grip. His eyes closed, and he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo. It was those little things that made memories. "It's not an impulse—it's a promise."
 

 
So. LaTARDya Hixx thinks she can beat me. And did I predict it or what? I knew she was gonna get her panties in a bunch over that match, over my existence in the company – see, we've met before. She probably doesn't remember and with the obvious head injury she has, is that shocking?
 
Of course not! And now she does what she does best… rambles incoherently, name-drops and expects the world to hand her a title shot on a platter. What did she do in that match to deserve it?
 
Yeah.
 
Go back and watch it over again. I'll wait for you to find something memorable.
 
There was nothing. Nada. Zilch. No redeeming moments at all for that absolute waste of oxygen. But hey, the powers-that-be wanna see a massacre, do they? They wanna see me put the women's division lightyears above the men? Okay.
 
She's the wrestling equivalent of the bored child sitting in an office chair, spinning until she's dizzy – she keeps going around and around and it's fun for a while but eventually it just becomes sad and a little nauseating. She's going nowhere but she has no clue because she keeps circling past the spotlight so much she thinks it's shining on her. Some might call that delusional.
 
It annoys me. People like her, the ones who NEVER EVER try to better themselves, who never try to learn from their mistakes. They just keep going around, doing the same thing over and over again with the hopes that this time the pattern will change. Oh no, totes not futile or a definition of insanity or anything. Nope. You go, girl. Rock on and keep trying.
 
Ugh.
 
You suck.
 
I want to go places.
 
I want to experience new things.
 
I'm going to continue to be champion for a little while if that's okay with you. I want to enjoy my success. I want to stand tall and proud for a little while longer before the universe cuts me down again.
 
Let's be clear here, LaTARDya. Let's be real.
 
I dove straight into this place without a care, without dipping my toe into the waters first. The difference between us is as obvious as night and day: I can swim in the deep end, with the sharks. You're still in the kiddie pool with water wings on, trying not to drown. Try again in five years. Maybe you'll have figured out how to wrestle by then. Doubtful.
 
In the meantime, I will continue to wage war on the weak and mediocre. I will continue to forge my own destiny while you bitch and moan and demand a second—a third title shot you never earned. Try to jump the line like a yappy, derp-faced puppy chasing a car, oblivious to the danger. Yap. Yap. Summer sucks. Me want belt. Blahblahblahblaaaaaaargh. 

You just want something shiny and to hell with the consequences, right? 
 
WRONG.
 
Not on my watch, bitch.
 
Not.
 
On.
 
My.
 
Watch.