Post by The Kayby on Mar 22, 2021 22:02:39 GMT -5
"What will become of me now?"
I was devastated when ICWA closed down. It was my first taste at the global stage, and a culmination of all the hard work I put in the ring. I was just some 18 year old kid from "Is That Near Toronto", Canada, but I was turning heads. There were a couple of people in the back that didn't much care for me, though; I wonder why. They dubbed me the Canadian Indy Darling, like it was supposed to be an insult. I wore that name proudly because I was never supposed to succeed. I got a break from a guy who liked my work in Maple Leaf Wrestling. I won matches against vets that should have had my number multiple times. Through sheer force of will, and desire to be the best, I made myself succeed. I never let them forget how wrong they were about me. So then...
Why does everything suck?
A soft golden light of late-morning sun suffused a non-descript eggshell white room. From underneath the sheets a hand blocked the sun from the youthful eyes of our protagonist. He swung his legs to the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes, his shoulder-length blonde hair falling into his face. With a flip of his hair and a few quick wrist movements, his hair had been tied into a half-ponytail; what some might call the Qui-Gon Jinn hair. From the other side of the bed a raven-hair figure rolled toward him.
"Alex, where you going?" She inquired.
"I'm just... getting up," he responded. "Go back to sleep -uh,"
"Callie."
"Callie. Go back to sleep, Callie."
He reached toward the ground where his ripped jeans and white t-shirt laid. He reached down to grab his socks but, to his surprise, one had gone missing. Desperate to escape his bedroom -and the girl he didn't know, apparently named Callie- he forwent his socks.
Alex Healy; that's me, or at least it used to be. By this point in my life I had touched the hand of god and been sent back down to earth. I fought so hard to be the best worker in the ring, and at the end of the day it meant not a damn thing. The trust from the fans that I had built, the cheers I cultivated, that breath of fresh air that filled your lungs when you turned on the tv and saw "Something Different"; it had been taken away from me. And the worst part of it all; that means there were a lot of companies that didn't think I was good enough.
I was in a dark place. Every morning I woke up filled with shame as I looked at another new face in my bed. So in the face of that shame, I did what I always did; I left. My favourite escape was the Aroma Espresso Bar inside the Atrium @ Bay. There was this cute blonde that worked there.
Growing up, my dad and I always used to watch wrestling together. It's from him I think I got my passion for wrestling. My mom, on the other hand, wasn't quite so big of a fan. I remember my dad taking me to my first indy show. We'd sit at the computer and look at the forum boards on OnIndyWrestling. Despite my passion for it, even my dad laughed when I said I wanted to be a wrestler. For me, wrestling was only ever a dream.
A subway car shot passed startling Arden awake to set the scene. The train bounced with every small imperfection on the track. She stared longingly at the graffiti-ridden overpass. The last bastion, she thought, of pure creative expression.
I did everything I was told to do. I got top-grades, became student vice-president and a hell of a volleyball player. I gained scholarships to MacMaster, Laurier, and University of Toronto. I got a part-time job at Aroma Espresso Bar. I did everything I was supposed to do. So why does everything,
The camera pans around her face as she slowly blinks. As she opens her eyes again, our scene shifts to the corner of King and Bay.
Suck.
As she walked north toward Dundas St, a poster for Superkick'd wrestling caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat.
Each and every day is the exact same. I wake up; go to school, or work, or school then work; I come home; stay up too late; do it over again. I'm getting a degree for in a field that interests me, but I'm not passionate about. I use it to get a job I hate, but that has good benefits, so I guess I'll stay. All of that for the promise of future happiness.
To say I'm pessimistic might be an understatement.
The camera pans around her again as she blinks. This time our scene changes to the inside of the Aroma Espresso Bar.
There is one part that doesn't suck.
He walked through the Atrium entrance; sleep still in his eyes.
There's this cute guy that comes in every morning. He dyes his hair blond, but he's started letting his roots grow in. For one brief moment, life's not so bad, you know?
For me, she gave me hope.
For me, he gave me freedom.
"So Chaw-sé, believe it or not, we understand your passion. You have something you want to go home to; and we've finally found the home we belong in. The unfortunate part is that sometime there isn't a home to go back to." Kayby Hale Cassidy says with a bittersweet smile. "Sometimes things aren't the way you left them, and they never will be again."
Taylor-Made Ms. Arden Taylor pushes herself into the chest of Kayby Hale Cassidy. "And when that's the case," she shrugs, "you smile for the time you've had."
"I know you've been through some battles in your life, bud. I've had my battles too." He pulls the collar of his shirt down and slouches forward. Visible under the neckline are three vertical scars on his right trap. "I've had my share of wars too. Hell, these bad boys are the reason I took a backseat for the Hardcore Championship match. You're welcome by the way. Truth is, if we try, and I mean seriously try, nothing can stop us."
"Except Damon Warrens, and maybe USAJ."
"Shut it."
"It's true," she says with her hands up defensively.
"If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?"
"Are you giving me permission?" She asks. Kayby Hale Cassidy responds only with a jaw-dropped look of betrayal. "Hey, you offered." His unchanging face evokes a small giggle from her. "I'm just kidding, Bae-by. You know you rank second only to Henry Cavill."
"I want to be hurt by that so badly," he says biting his tongue. He shakes his head before returning his attention to the camera. "Chaw-sé, let me put this into terms you can understand. Bambi and I, we're like JTF-2. When we are together, it doesn't matter the distance, we get the tango."
"Thirty-five fourty, motherfucker."
"We've got our McMillan Tac-50 loaded and cocked. You, on the other hand, are more like a Barrett M82A1. Yeah, you pretty good, but you still come a full kilometer short of JTF-2"
"Thirty-five fourty. Longest confirmed kill. Set by a Canadian, hasn't been broken."
"See Chaw-sé, what you need to understand is that its in the water. I'm from the centre of the damn universe in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Excellence is pumped into the water system, and if you want to doubt me on that, why don't you ask the the co-World Champion to confirm it for me. So good luck out there this week, you'll need it. Now that I have the one piece of my soul that I was missing, there is nothing that will stop me."
"Now that I am free to live my life; Chaw-sé, I won't give it up easily. We walked into this company looking for nothing more than the Strong Style Championship. Poetic justice puts us exactly where we've tried to lead ourselves; now it's up to us. I don't think you are ready for a healthy Kayby Hale Cassidy, Chaw-sé, I really don't. I don't think you believe the hype. I don't think you believe the name Better Than You-ligan; that's fine though. We will take immense pleasure in kicking you back down to the earth." She lowered her head knowing the time was coming up. Kayby Hale Cassidy put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "For the fans that have watched us for the past six months, for the company that housed us for the last six months; we have just one more thing to say."
"Goodbye Alpha Pro Wrestling. We loved you."
The camera pans back before fading out.
I was devastated when ICWA closed down. It was my first taste at the global stage, and a culmination of all the hard work I put in the ring. I was just some 18 year old kid from "Is That Near Toronto", Canada, but I was turning heads. There were a couple of people in the back that didn't much care for me, though; I wonder why. They dubbed me the Canadian Indy Darling, like it was supposed to be an insult. I wore that name proudly because I was never supposed to succeed. I got a break from a guy who liked my work in Maple Leaf Wrestling. I won matches against vets that should have had my number multiple times. Through sheer force of will, and desire to be the best, I made myself succeed. I never let them forget how wrong they were about me. So then...
Why does everything suck?
A soft golden light of late-morning sun suffused a non-descript eggshell white room. From underneath the sheets a hand blocked the sun from the youthful eyes of our protagonist. He swung his legs to the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes, his shoulder-length blonde hair falling into his face. With a flip of his hair and a few quick wrist movements, his hair had been tied into a half-ponytail; what some might call the Qui-Gon Jinn hair. From the other side of the bed a raven-hair figure rolled toward him.
"Alex, where you going?" She inquired.
"I'm just... getting up," he responded. "Go back to sleep -uh,"
"Callie."
"Callie. Go back to sleep, Callie."
He reached toward the ground where his ripped jeans and white t-shirt laid. He reached down to grab his socks but, to his surprise, one had gone missing. Desperate to escape his bedroom -and the girl he didn't know, apparently named Callie- he forwent his socks.
Alex Healy; that's me, or at least it used to be. By this point in my life I had touched the hand of god and been sent back down to earth. I fought so hard to be the best worker in the ring, and at the end of the day it meant not a damn thing. The trust from the fans that I had built, the cheers I cultivated, that breath of fresh air that filled your lungs when you turned on the tv and saw "Something Different"; it had been taken away from me. And the worst part of it all; that means there were a lot of companies that didn't think I was good enough.
I was in a dark place. Every morning I woke up filled with shame as I looked at another new face in my bed. So in the face of that shame, I did what I always did; I left. My favourite escape was the Aroma Espresso Bar inside the Atrium @ Bay. There was this cute blonde that worked there.
Growing up, my dad and I always used to watch wrestling together. It's from him I think I got my passion for wrestling. My mom, on the other hand, wasn't quite so big of a fan. I remember my dad taking me to my first indy show. We'd sit at the computer and look at the forum boards on OnIndyWrestling. Despite my passion for it, even my dad laughed when I said I wanted to be a wrestler. For me, wrestling was only ever a dream.
A subway car shot passed startling Arden awake to set the scene. The train bounced with every small imperfection on the track. She stared longingly at the graffiti-ridden overpass. The last bastion, she thought, of pure creative expression.
I did everything I was told to do. I got top-grades, became student vice-president and a hell of a volleyball player. I gained scholarships to MacMaster, Laurier, and University of Toronto. I got a part-time job at Aroma Espresso Bar. I did everything I was supposed to do. So why does everything,
The camera pans around her face as she slowly blinks. As she opens her eyes again, our scene shifts to the corner of King and Bay.
Suck.
As she walked north toward Dundas St, a poster for Superkick'd wrestling caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat.
Each and every day is the exact same. I wake up; go to school, or work, or school then work; I come home; stay up too late; do it over again. I'm getting a degree for in a field that interests me, but I'm not passionate about. I use it to get a job I hate, but that has good benefits, so I guess I'll stay. All of that for the promise of future happiness.
To say I'm pessimistic might be an understatement.
The camera pans around her again as she blinks. This time our scene changes to the inside of the Aroma Espresso Bar.
There is one part that doesn't suck.
He walked through the Atrium entrance; sleep still in his eyes.
There's this cute guy that comes in every morning. He dyes his hair blond, but he's started letting his roots grow in. For one brief moment, life's not so bad, you know?
For me, she gave me hope.
For me, he gave me freedom.
"So Chaw-sé, believe it or not, we understand your passion. You have something you want to go home to; and we've finally found the home we belong in. The unfortunate part is that sometime there isn't a home to go back to." Kayby Hale Cassidy says with a bittersweet smile. "Sometimes things aren't the way you left them, and they never will be again."
Taylor-Made Ms. Arden Taylor pushes herself into the chest of Kayby Hale Cassidy. "And when that's the case," she shrugs, "you smile for the time you've had."
"I know you've been through some battles in your life, bud. I've had my battles too." He pulls the collar of his shirt down and slouches forward. Visible under the neckline are three vertical scars on his right trap. "I've had my share of wars too. Hell, these bad boys are the reason I took a backseat for the Hardcore Championship match. You're welcome by the way. Truth is, if we try, and I mean seriously try, nothing can stop us."
"Except Damon Warrens, and maybe USAJ."
"Shut it."
"It's true," she says with her hands up defensively.
"If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?"
"Are you giving me permission?" She asks. Kayby Hale Cassidy responds only with a jaw-dropped look of betrayal. "Hey, you offered." His unchanging face evokes a small giggle from her. "I'm just kidding, Bae-by. You know you rank second only to Henry Cavill."
"I want to be hurt by that so badly," he says biting his tongue. He shakes his head before returning his attention to the camera. "Chaw-sé, let me put this into terms you can understand. Bambi and I, we're like JTF-2. When we are together, it doesn't matter the distance, we get the tango."
"Thirty-five fourty, motherfucker."
"We've got our McMillan Tac-50 loaded and cocked. You, on the other hand, are more like a Barrett M82A1. Yeah, you pretty good, but you still come a full kilometer short of JTF-2"
"Thirty-five fourty. Longest confirmed kill. Set by a Canadian, hasn't been broken."
"See Chaw-sé, what you need to understand is that its in the water. I'm from the centre of the damn universe in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Excellence is pumped into the water system, and if you want to doubt me on that, why don't you ask the the co-World Champion to confirm it for me. So good luck out there this week, you'll need it. Now that I have the one piece of my soul that I was missing, there is nothing that will stop me."
"Now that I am free to live my life; Chaw-sé, I won't give it up easily. We walked into this company looking for nothing more than the Strong Style Championship. Poetic justice puts us exactly where we've tried to lead ourselves; now it's up to us. I don't think you are ready for a healthy Kayby Hale Cassidy, Chaw-sé, I really don't. I don't think you believe the hype. I don't think you believe the name Better Than You-ligan; that's fine though. We will take immense pleasure in kicking you back down to the earth." She lowered her head knowing the time was coming up. Kayby Hale Cassidy put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "For the fans that have watched us for the past six months, for the company that housed us for the last six months; we have just one more thing to say."
"Goodbye Alpha Pro Wrestling. We loved you."
The camera pans back before fading out.
