008: Pity (Party of Two)
Jun 17, 2019 0:24:23 GMT -5
Post by Admin on Jun 17, 2019 0:24:23 GMT -5
LOCATION: Napa Valley, California
DATE/TIME: May 30, 2019 || 05:51 AM PST
CAMERA STATUS: ON/OFF
A cigarette was clamped between Kitty's lips as she knelt in front of the red maple tree – she'd planted it after scattering his ashes, mixing them in with the fertile soil – a fitting tribute. Despite the neglect, it was covered in those gorgeous crimson leaves already. Drops of blood fell from her clenched fist; a single white rose was clenched so tightly in her hand that the stem had already snapped. Her jacket was covered in moisture, her shoes soaked from the morning dew on the thick grass. There was an empty Jameson bottle at her feet, the label faded and torn. She wasn't drunk. For a long moment, she said nothing, opting to finish off shaving another moment from her life in silence. Her breath hitched. She closed her eyes and focused on making the inhale and exhale match. When they did, she dropped to her knees in the damp grass.
"I tried." The words came out soft, a shiver crawling up her spine, making her shudder. Goosebumps rose and she ignored them. In the few precious moments of pre-dawn stillness she lingered in silence, still as a statue with smoke circling her head like a makeshift halo. "God help me, I did. I know I used to be a big fan of the whole 'fake it 'til you make it' movement, but it's not so easy when the whole world wants to tear you down."
She reached up, plucking the cigarette from her lips and sending it spiraling off into the darkness. Tension was evident in the clenching in her jaw as she dragged the back of her hand under her nose, wiping away the dampness with a soft sniffle. Eyes downcast, it was easier not to blink and betray herself. "Robby used to say that life was about living, about taking risks. You understood that better than anyone. Look at where we ended up – Jesus, we're so damned tragic, aren't we? I guess we were always doomed from the start."
Her hand went out, touching the rough bark of the tree. It felt warm against her icy palm, comforting. "Risks." She shook her head, bitterness in her tone. "Who am I trying to fool? Them? Myself? I don't know. I don't fucking know anymore. Mike and I... Chelsea and Hayley have both retired. I don't want to try and put them in the same category – I know I failed to get the job done. I know and it doesn't matter because..." her voice broke as she bowed her head, dragging in a deep breath.
"Life isn't worth a damn without the risks." Her whisper was raspy, rough with emotion she tried like hell to suppress. "I wish for so many things these days. Most of all, I wish we'd had more time. I wish I could hear you laugh."
The morning breeze nipped at her skin, numbing it. She hardly noticed as she rocked back on her heels, falling strangely silent again as she stared off towards the horizon, where she could see the sun sneaking through the trees. After another agonizing moment of silence, she spoke aloud, her voice filled with grief.
"It was my fault," she began, pausing only to slick her hair back from her brow, wiping away the clammy sweat there. "It's been thirteen..." she paused for a breath, "God... it's been more than a year and I still feel like I can feel your energy filling up the house. I guess that's why I've stayed away so much these past few months... why I've been so busy. Lyv kept telling me I needed to believe in a higher purpose, believe there's a reason why things happen. I hate her so much for having that carefree attitude, for being so damned naïve – there's no puppet master pulling the strings. There's no method to this madness and there's no such things as destiny or fate. Our choices shape the universe around us... reality comes as a side effect to the way we live. This is what my decisions have wrought."
Her voice oozed anger, "alone and empty-handed, facing the trash of the OCW roster. Chelsea LeClair hadn't wrestled in months. One last match against yours truly and that's something she'll carry with her for the rest of her days. For me, just another shitty Monday." She chuckled bitterly, "and what's next? A best of ten series with Great Scott?"
The tree made no reply, simply sitting there stoically. The shadows brightened as the sun rose and she shivered again, chilled suddenly as she lifted her hands to swipe angrily at the tears on her cheeks.
"I'm doing this all wrong. I know that. I just can't snap myself out of this funk." She said the words with real regret etched in her voice. "I miss...." She broke off again, unable to finish that thought even after so much time. "I'm not the same woman who dominated the Queen of Sin back in 2015. I'm not the same one who broke all those records and rules... I'm not that reckless anymore. I need to turn this shit around otherwise they're going to see right through me, realize I'm a fuckin' fraud."
She didn't see the tall man, standing off in the shadows of one of the old cypress trees, watching her. She had no idea she wasn't alone. "I'm not... it isn't the main event this week, but it's closer. I can turn things around and I guess what I'm trying to say is that I hope you'll forgive me if I don't come back for a little while longer. I need... I need to find my own ground. I need to separate who I am from who I used to be and I think maybe the best way to do that is to..." she said the next words softly, shaking her head. "Feel a bit too much like a lunatic already. Ariel's gone, she's moved on and I don't think it's fair to keep trying to drag her back into this mess. I'll fix it on my own. I'm going to make headway this week – beat Myst and then I'm going to take a page from his book, prove I can do it better."
Sighing, she tried to smooth out the mangled stem of that rose that now lay in the grass. "God, I miss how it was before I went and screwed it all up by losing that stupid championship. It was good. Really... really good."
She breathed in deeply, crossed her arms over the over-sized hoodie she had on over her yoga gear. It was frayed on the sleeves but she pushed them up her arms, knowing they wouldn't stay in place long as the cuffs had been stretched out by arms far larger than her own. "I don't want their pity – that's the last thing I'd ever want out of all of this. I won't be a victim. I won't let them do that to me, to take away what made me happy. Not on my watch."
She bowed her head, smart enough to know that a direct clash with the eMpire was one she could NEVER hope to win.
"I don't do pity," the voice came to her ears so softly that she thought she'd imagined it.
She smelled a hint of leather and tobacco, carried to her on the breeze and she turned to see a figure, leaning on the fence. With the sun coming over the horizon in a blaze of glory and the shimmer of tears in her eyes, she couldn't make out his face. She bit her lip, trying to keep from shaking because every word that had been said since she'd lost the belt had come out wrong until every conversation felt like it had a thousand layers, all these veiled barbs back and forth. "I..." she cleared her throat, trying to find an olive branch even as she wondered how much he'd overheard.
"Suits you," her visitor said, the meaning so vague that she immediately snapped to the wrong conclusion, bristling.
Her eyes narrowed, "suits me?" Biting her tongue for only a moment, she scoffed at the words, "I don't search for pity, thank you. That's not what this is, okay? I'm here because I need to clear my head and if that... if wanting to find some clarity after all this goddamned drama makes me pitiful, then so fucking be it."
He held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head but she was just getting started; the anger was too hot, the words bottled up for too long already.
"You've been pushing my buttons for weeks now and I don't much care for that." She snapped angrily, moving to her feet, and wincing as her knees popped. She hadn't come home looking for another damned fight. It was enough of a strain on to play the dangerous game she was with the eMpire, flirting with Farthington on social media. She knew the entire locker room wanted nothing to do with Best, wanted to stay off his radar after he'd run roughshod over most of the roster – she wanted to provoke him in the worst way but she hadn't expected it to bring him to her doorstep this quickly. She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to banish the vestiges of her momentary weakness from his judging eyes. She was already on thin ice with him. Sighing, she looked away, utterly embarrassed.
"You're right. I shouldn't have come. It's clear I'm not supposed to be here."
He'd said it louder now and her head snapped up, eyes widening when she realized who'd been standing in her yard even as he turned his back to her. It wasn't Mike Best at all and now she hated herself even more for that lapse in judgement. "Hunter?"
When he turned around, she saw the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with that easy smile and a shrug. "It's fine. Honest. You don't owe me anything and I kinda dropped in on you out of nowhere so-"
"No." She took a few steps towards him, surprised when he didn't back away. "I... I thought you were someone else." She reached out, grabbing hold of his hand as she closed the gap between them. A moment later her lips were on his, and she was kissing him with everything she'd been denying for the last two months.
He didn't react right away, didn't know how, but a few moments after it started, Kitty pulled away so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet. She shook her head, her dark hair sweeping from side to side, "I shouldn't... no more games. I can't-"
"I don't do games," he replied, his eyes fixed on her as if waiting for her to have some sort of spectacular meltdown.
She said nothing as she wrapped her arms around her middle, shivering slightly as her hair fell over her eyes. The words came out haltingly, more excuses as she tried to put the wall back up between them. "I have to get back to Florida. I have things to do... a match on Monday and-"
"I know. But today, you're gonna have a spa day." She stared at him like he'd grown a second head and he laughed, sheepish as he took her hand, "it's already paid for. You need it. I can tell."
"Fair enough." She nodded, and reached up to rub the back of her neck with her free hand. "Guess I can shuffle things around." Her eyes lifted to his, and he saw the depth of emotions within. "You're right, Hun. I do need it... feel so stressed out I think I'm gonna shatter into a million pieces."
"Looks like I got here just in time, then." He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight. He didn't say anything else, even when her tears started soaking into his shirt. For that, she was grateful.
DATE/TIME: May 30, 2019 || 05:51 AM PST
CAMERA STATUS: ON/OFF
A cigarette was clamped between Kitty's lips as she knelt in front of the red maple tree – she'd planted it after scattering his ashes, mixing them in with the fertile soil – a fitting tribute. Despite the neglect, it was covered in those gorgeous crimson leaves already. Drops of blood fell from her clenched fist; a single white rose was clenched so tightly in her hand that the stem had already snapped. Her jacket was covered in moisture, her shoes soaked from the morning dew on the thick grass. There was an empty Jameson bottle at her feet, the label faded and torn. She wasn't drunk. For a long moment, she said nothing, opting to finish off shaving another moment from her life in silence. Her breath hitched. She closed her eyes and focused on making the inhale and exhale match. When they did, she dropped to her knees in the damp grass.
"I tried." The words came out soft, a shiver crawling up her spine, making her shudder. Goosebumps rose and she ignored them. In the few precious moments of pre-dawn stillness she lingered in silence, still as a statue with smoke circling her head like a makeshift halo. "God help me, I did. I know I used to be a big fan of the whole 'fake it 'til you make it' movement, but it's not so easy when the whole world wants to tear you down."
She reached up, plucking the cigarette from her lips and sending it spiraling off into the darkness. Tension was evident in the clenching in her jaw as she dragged the back of her hand under her nose, wiping away the dampness with a soft sniffle. Eyes downcast, it was easier not to blink and betray herself. "Robby used to say that life was about living, about taking risks. You understood that better than anyone. Look at where we ended up – Jesus, we're so damned tragic, aren't we? I guess we were always doomed from the start."
Her hand went out, touching the rough bark of the tree. It felt warm against her icy palm, comforting. "Risks." She shook her head, bitterness in her tone. "Who am I trying to fool? Them? Myself? I don't know. I don't fucking know anymore. Mike and I... Chelsea and Hayley have both retired. I don't want to try and put them in the same category – I know I failed to get the job done. I know and it doesn't matter because..." her voice broke as she bowed her head, dragging in a deep breath.
"Life isn't worth a damn without the risks." Her whisper was raspy, rough with emotion she tried like hell to suppress. "I wish for so many things these days. Most of all, I wish we'd had more time. I wish I could hear you laugh."
The morning breeze nipped at her skin, numbing it. She hardly noticed as she rocked back on her heels, falling strangely silent again as she stared off towards the horizon, where she could see the sun sneaking through the trees. After another agonizing moment of silence, she spoke aloud, her voice filled with grief.
"It was my fault," she began, pausing only to slick her hair back from her brow, wiping away the clammy sweat there. "It's been thirteen..." she paused for a breath, "God... it's been more than a year and I still feel like I can feel your energy filling up the house. I guess that's why I've stayed away so much these past few months... why I've been so busy. Lyv kept telling me I needed to believe in a higher purpose, believe there's a reason why things happen. I hate her so much for having that carefree attitude, for being so damned naïve – there's no puppet master pulling the strings. There's no method to this madness and there's no such things as destiny or fate. Our choices shape the universe around us... reality comes as a side effect to the way we live. This is what my decisions have wrought."
Her voice oozed anger, "alone and empty-handed, facing the trash of the OCW roster. Chelsea LeClair hadn't wrestled in months. One last match against yours truly and that's something she'll carry with her for the rest of her days. For me, just another shitty Monday." She chuckled bitterly, "and what's next? A best of ten series with Great Scott?"
The tree made no reply, simply sitting there stoically. The shadows brightened as the sun rose and she shivered again, chilled suddenly as she lifted her hands to swipe angrily at the tears on her cheeks.
"I'm doing this all wrong. I know that. I just can't snap myself out of this funk." She said the words with real regret etched in her voice. "I miss...." She broke off again, unable to finish that thought even after so much time. "I'm not the same woman who dominated the Queen of Sin back in 2015. I'm not the same one who broke all those records and rules... I'm not that reckless anymore. I need to turn this shit around otherwise they're going to see right through me, realize I'm a fuckin' fraud."
She didn't see the tall man, standing off in the shadows of one of the old cypress trees, watching her. She had no idea she wasn't alone. "I'm not... it isn't the main event this week, but it's closer. I can turn things around and I guess what I'm trying to say is that I hope you'll forgive me if I don't come back for a little while longer. I need... I need to find my own ground. I need to separate who I am from who I used to be and I think maybe the best way to do that is to..." she said the next words softly, shaking her head. "Feel a bit too much like a lunatic already. Ariel's gone, she's moved on and I don't think it's fair to keep trying to drag her back into this mess. I'll fix it on my own. I'm going to make headway this week – beat Myst and then I'm going to take a page from his book, prove I can do it better."
Sighing, she tried to smooth out the mangled stem of that rose that now lay in the grass. "God, I miss how it was before I went and screwed it all up by losing that stupid championship. It was good. Really... really good."
She breathed in deeply, crossed her arms over the over-sized hoodie she had on over her yoga gear. It was frayed on the sleeves but she pushed them up her arms, knowing they wouldn't stay in place long as the cuffs had been stretched out by arms far larger than her own. "I don't want their pity – that's the last thing I'd ever want out of all of this. I won't be a victim. I won't let them do that to me, to take away what made me happy. Not on my watch."
She bowed her head, smart enough to know that a direct clash with the eMpire was one she could NEVER hope to win.
"I don't do pity," the voice came to her ears so softly that she thought she'd imagined it.
She smelled a hint of leather and tobacco, carried to her on the breeze and she turned to see a figure, leaning on the fence. With the sun coming over the horizon in a blaze of glory and the shimmer of tears in her eyes, she couldn't make out his face. She bit her lip, trying to keep from shaking because every word that had been said since she'd lost the belt had come out wrong until every conversation felt like it had a thousand layers, all these veiled barbs back and forth. "I..." she cleared her throat, trying to find an olive branch even as she wondered how much he'd overheard.
"Suits you," her visitor said, the meaning so vague that she immediately snapped to the wrong conclusion, bristling.
Her eyes narrowed, "suits me?" Biting her tongue for only a moment, she scoffed at the words, "I don't search for pity, thank you. That's not what this is, okay? I'm here because I need to clear my head and if that... if wanting to find some clarity after all this goddamned drama makes me pitiful, then so fucking be it."
He held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head but she was just getting started; the anger was too hot, the words bottled up for too long already.
"You've been pushing my buttons for weeks now and I don't much care for that." She snapped angrily, moving to her feet, and wincing as her knees popped. She hadn't come home looking for another damned fight. It was enough of a strain on to play the dangerous game she was with the eMpire, flirting with Farthington on social media. She knew the entire locker room wanted nothing to do with Best, wanted to stay off his radar after he'd run roughshod over most of the roster – she wanted to provoke him in the worst way but she hadn't expected it to bring him to her doorstep this quickly. She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to banish the vestiges of her momentary weakness from his judging eyes. She was already on thin ice with him. Sighing, she looked away, utterly embarrassed.
"You're right. I shouldn't have come. It's clear I'm not supposed to be here."
He'd said it louder now and her head snapped up, eyes widening when she realized who'd been standing in her yard even as he turned his back to her. It wasn't Mike Best at all and now she hated herself even more for that lapse in judgement. "Hunter?"
When he turned around, she saw the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with that easy smile and a shrug. "It's fine. Honest. You don't owe me anything and I kinda dropped in on you out of nowhere so-"
"No." She took a few steps towards him, surprised when he didn't back away. "I... I thought you were someone else." She reached out, grabbing hold of his hand as she closed the gap between them. A moment later her lips were on his, and she was kissing him with everything she'd been denying for the last two months.
He didn't react right away, didn't know how, but a few moments after it started, Kitty pulled away so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet. She shook her head, her dark hair sweeping from side to side, "I shouldn't... no more games. I can't-"
"I don't do games," he replied, his eyes fixed on her as if waiting for her to have some sort of spectacular meltdown.
She said nothing as she wrapped her arms around her middle, shivering slightly as her hair fell over her eyes. The words came out haltingly, more excuses as she tried to put the wall back up between them. "I have to get back to Florida. I have things to do... a match on Monday and-"
"I know. But today, you're gonna have a spa day." She stared at him like he'd grown a second head and he laughed, sheepish as he took her hand, "it's already paid for. You need it. I can tell."
"Fair enough." She nodded, and reached up to rub the back of her neck with her free hand. "Guess I can shuffle things around." Her eyes lifted to his, and he saw the depth of emotions within. "You're right, Hun. I do need it... feel so stressed out I think I'm gonna shatter into a million pieces."
"Looks like I got here just in time, then." He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight. He didn't say anything else, even when her tears started soaking into his shirt. For that, she was grateful.
