002: The Prestige (Bayou Indy)

002: The Prestige (Bayou Indy) Nov 15, 2018 22:12:14 GMT -5

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Post by Admin on Nov 15, 2018 22:12:14 GMT -5

Experience is the name every
one gives to their mistakes.
— Oscar Wilde

(the present: New Orleans)
August 20, 2018

The Prestige. There's a sort of art to it, to being so out of touch that you manage to dupe even yourself. For me, it's a bit more complex. It's a shift in focus, really. I take a step to the left and distance myself from the problem and for the most part it works. It gives me a way to analyze it critically and keep all the facets of my world compartmentalized – it's not intentional. It's just a way to get past the obstacles, to make sure I'm always forcing myself to put in the work. Can't dwell on how much it hurts or how frustrating it is when my damned body doesn't want to cooperate. Lately, it's gotten a bit easier. I think I've finally hit a good stride. Being in one place, working for one company with a static location for shows was a bonus. I hate travel.

I don't fly. Just can't bring myself to get on a plane. Maybe I'm shortchanging myself, but I prefer to work in North America for the most part. I prefer to drive.

Sure, I was basically spending five days a week at Rayna's place, but we hadn't put a label on that. I'd come over after the volunteer work, after a few hours in the gym. We had a nice routine going and I started to just wait and shower at her place. At first it was because they were doing work on the pipes at the gym. No water for a week – easy enough to explain. After that it just became part of the habit. It became part of the trick and it was getting harder and harder to tell myself that we were just friends and that this was going to end up the same way it did with Kasey, the same way it did with Florence. I'd overstay the welcome. I'd screw something up. There was always something going on that I failed to notice until after the fact, when I stood there stunned and awed, wondering what just happened. It wasn't as fun as watching David Copperfield make the Statue of Liberty disappear, I can assure you.

It had been exactly two months since their first official date. Even though they'd only known each other for a year, the two had become quite close, almost inseparable. Rayna's car had been on the fritz and was currently in the shop. Max had been gracious enough to let her borrow his while she ran a few errands. As a thank you, Rayna was going to cook a special dinner for him. She wasn't the best at that particular skill, but she wasn't about to kill him with salmonella or burn the house down in the process. Her happy mood had been shattered, however, when she'd finished her shopping and popped open the trunk to put the groceries inside, only to find it full. There was a huge box that had obviously been patched a few times with packing tape, bursting at the seams with clothes, mostly t-shirts from the look of it. Next to that were a couple milk crates full of old wrestling tapes on VHS and a couple spindles full of DVD's. She closed it up, careful not to disturb anything in the process, driving back home in a fog.

What did all that stuff mean?

While driving back to her place, she couldn't quiet the nagging voice in the back of her head. It bothered her, to say the least, and she knew that she'd have to confront him about it.

Once she'd made it home, Rayna grabbed the few bags of groceries that she'd bought and went into the house. Max had been hanging with her big-eared dog, Stitch. She'd had the mutt since he'd been a puppy and melted her heart at how quickly her fur-baby had taken to the new man in her life.

"Hey." She greeted as she made her way over to the kitchen counter. "Hope you've got an appetite, 'cause I'm gonna cook you a feast!" She still planned on talking to him about his car, but she planned to ease into it – last thing she wanted to do was scare him off.

Max grinned, giving the dog a scratch behind the ears. "Well, I'll get the fire department and poison control ready on the speed-dial, then."

"Aw, sad." She frowned, but then returned his grin. "No need, I have the fire extinguisher ready to go and have some of that Ipecac stuff that makes you vomit." She gave him a thumbs-up as her smile started to fade, "so… we're covered?"

"Sounds like we're…" he paused for the obvious pun as he joined her with unpacking the groceries, "cooking with gas? Do people still say that?"

"Hmm… that's a little too on the nose." She turned her back, busying herself with getting dinner prepared to cook as he kept putting things away. Any other time, it might have been comforting to see how well he knew his way around where things were kept already but she couldn't keep that unease at bay. "Max?"

He looked up, freezing amid putting a case of Dr. Pepper into the fridge. "Yeah? You need something from in here?"

"No." She bit her lip, "this is good, right? I mean, what we have going on? It works for you?" Every sentence was a question, her voice rising in pitch with each one.

Frowning, he straightened up and pushed his glasses back into place, studying her as the fridge door closed on its own. "I feel like no matter how I answer it, I'm stepping into a minefield. Did something happen that you're not telling me about?"

"I don't want you to think I was snooping," she began and he tried not to cringe, knowing where she was going before she said it. "I was going to put the stuff in the trunk and I… noticed… it was kinda full. That's a lot of stuff you have in there and I… um…" she trailed off. She wanted to tell him that he could trust her, that whatever was going on, she'd help if at all possible.

"Yeah." He cracked a smile, laughing softly, "the futon and the king-sized water bed didn't fit and I wasn't about to buy a van. I had to downsize a little when I left Michigan. Lost a lot more when I left New York." He bowed his head, embarrassed as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "I was meaning to…" trailing off, he cleared his throat, wondering how good a look she'd gotten at it. There was more than just a box of old wrestling tapes and a few bags of clothes. "I suppose you want to know why it's in there. I needed to go to the laundromat and I just haven't had time." He settled on a white lie. Some of the clothes in there were dirty, after all.

Exhaling, she glanced up at him before going back to the potatoes she'd been dicing. "Max… look, I'm gonna put the offer out there… if this is moving too fast, I get it. My feelings won't be hurt-"

"Wait. No. It's not like that. I just…" he wanted to tell her that he was broke, that he'd burned up all his savings sitting idle after he'd washed out of WWH and had to take time to recover from the damage Kasey Summers had done to him. Instead he fell silent, letting her continue.

"I'd like for you to move in here… I have the space, a spare room that's yours if you want it." She would have been fine with him in her bed from now until the end of time but she didn't want to freak him out. "And I understand if you think I'm jumping the gun but you've got a permanent job here and I-"

"…actually," he cut her off, "that's done. Crescent City closed up. Out of the blue. Didn't even give us the courtesy of notice or anything. Just cancelled the show and that's that."

"Oh." The knife fell into the sink with a clatter and she stood there with the water still running, watching the slivers start to turn brown around the edges. "Okay."

"Bunny," he sighed, the pet name slipping out as he realized where her mind had just gone. "No. I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere. I just… when I'm not here, I park at the gym. Sleep in the back seat because I don't want you to think I'm freeloading and I just can't afford a hotel room on these wages. Insurance is more important to keep active." He stood and crossed to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. She felt so tense it was a wonder she didn't snap with the touch. "For the first time, I'm happy. Really and truly happy. And if you want me to move in, my answer is yes. That would be really great. I mean, the showers at the gym are huge and the water is always really hot but the ambiance here is a lot better." Max chuckled softly and hugged her.

Turning around, Rayna had a warm smile on her face. "It would be an honor for you to move in. Plus, I'll get to see you every day. Make you meals and such-"

"Get to see me everyday. Ohhhh, now I see how it is. Purely selfish on your part." He was back to joking, trying to push aside the feelings he was trying hard to pretend weren't there.

"Uh oh, you foiled my master plan!" Rayna couldn't stifle the laughter that came out. "I guess now that you know, you'll have to decide if you'll still move in. Is it worth it?"

The smile faded as he broke eye contact. "I don't want you to say something you don't mean just because you feel bad. That's the last thing I'd ever want."

"Max," she shook her head quickly, "never. You're great and you've become my best friend and, well, my dog adores you." She put her hands on his shoulders. "How could I not wanna share my life with you?"

"Share your life…" he stared at her for a few seconds, licking his lips. He needed to kiss her so badly right now and before he could second-guess or rethink, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. It had taken him two whole months to screw up the courage to go further than holding her hand in public and putting his arm around her while they watched movies. The way she pressed against him, returning it now, he felt like an absolute idiot for not reading the signs sooner. When it broke, he laughed breathlessly, the song lyrics that popped into his head coming out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Signed. Sealed. Delivered… I'm yours."