Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2022 13:53:54 GMT -5
Being alone with my thoughts is not always a good thing. I’m a pretty good guy for the most part. While I certainly have my vices, the sting of betrayal has a way of causing me to give in to the darkest parts of my makeup. I am not naïve to think that everyone I have allowed to get close to me in my life has pure motives. I’ve been betrayed before… and I will be again.
This one… it hurts.
“We’re here boss,” Dick says to me as the car slows to a stop. Just about startling me from my own skin, I had been lost inside my own head. Richard Small, otherwise known as ‘Dick’, was once my chief of staff. Now he’s the President of Lion’s Guard Entertainment and running my entire empire. Well, he’s President in name only. Most of my business ventures fall under that umbrella. He’s essentially my proxy when I’m predisposed elsewhere.
“Should I have him wait?” Dick asks as I hesitate to exit the car.
“Nah,” I answer after a moment. Together, Dick and I make our way from the limousine to the awaiting helicopter. Entering the chopper, I sit quietly and stare out the window as the engine winds up and the rotors turn.
“Mr. Duke,” the pilot calls to me but I pay him no mind as I continue to stare blankly.
“Thad,” Dick nudges me, breaking my gaze before motioning to the headset.
Snapping to it, I put the headset over my ears.
“You’re gonna wanna strap in,” the pilot reminds me. “Gets dark early this time of year and we’re running out of daylight.”
The skids were off the pavement before I managed to strap in for the sixty mile flight to San Francisco. This pilot is in one hell of a hurry because he steered sharply to the left while we were only ten or fifteen feet off the ground.
“How long we got, Captain?” I ask of the pilot.
“About twenty minutes,” he answers. “Relax man, take a load off. We’ll be there before you know it.”
Relaxing certainly isn’t in the cards. It’s twenty minutes of intentional internal solitude. It’s twenty minutes of thinking impure thoughts. It’s twenty minutes of filling up my rage meter. It’s twenty minutes of me talking myself in and out of my worst impulses.
It was never supposed to be this way. This was never supposed to happen. He was my friend. I tried to treat him like my own flesh and blood like I do to every single one of my friends and maybe… just maybe that’s on me. Sebastian Everett-Bryce the third has betrayed me and now I need to find out why.
Did my flirtation with Sloane Taylor really drive him to this? It’s innocent as hell, but no one will let him believe that that’s the case. Did that bother him so bad that he’d take the blade of brotherhood and shove it straight through my back?
Before long, the island comes into view.
Alcatraz Island. Sebastian was here just a couple weeks back and I don’t know why. What I do know is that he met with my enemy and that… fucking hurts. He had nothing but air and opportunity to come clean. He’s always been able to come to me with anything for any reason. Yet he chose not to tell me. He chose to keep me in the dark. He chose to violate my trust.
‘But why?’ I ask myself as the pilot lands the chopper on the roof of the old prison.
As Dick and I exit the chopper, we’re met by a uniformed guard armed to the teeth.
“Where is he?” Dick asks of him as we walk across the roof toward the door.
“In the main corridor,” he answers while holding out his hand.
Dick rolls his eyes as he reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a fat envelope stuffed full of hundred dollar bills. This deal set me back ten thousand dollars but the prospect of finding answers means it was well worth the cost. Dick stops before we enter through the door.
“Is he dangerous?” Dick asks of the guard.
He doesn’t respond immediately as he looks back and forth between us. “Not physically,” he replies.
“So he poses no threat?” he asks the guard.
“To him?” he points to me with his thumb over his shoulder. “Nah. To you? Stay on the other side of the table.”
Proceeding through the door, Dick and I make our way down the old rickety iron spiral staircase. As the anticipation mounts, my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest. Not out of nervousness or any sort of fear, but out of pure unadulterated anxiety. To be clear, I have suffered anxiety since I was a teenager. While it’s under control about 95% of the time, it’s the other 5% that gives me concern.
Emptying out on the ground floor, despite it still being daylight, the interior of the old dilapidated prison remains very dark. Standing in the darkness, we can see the man we’re meant to meet down at the other end beneath an overhead light that illuminates he and his immediate surroundings but not much else.
As planned, Dick heads toward him using the center of the main corridor. I remain off to the side and proceed quietly among the old uninhabited cells entirely cloaked in darkness.
“Who are you?” he asks but Dick doesn’t immediately answer. “Guards!” the man yells out.
“Relax, Mr. Norrie,” Dick says as he takes a seat at the table across from Cypher.
Despite my worst impulse, I remain quiet as a mouse and hidden as I make my way behind Tyler.
“My name is Richard Small,” Dick finally answers him. “I represent Lion’s Guard Entertainment.”
“So?” Cypher replies cockily.
“Mr. Norrie,” Dick begins. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions regarding your wrongful termination suit against OCW.”
Tyler’s chair grinds against the pavement as he leans forward. “You flew 3,000 miles unannounced? Without consulting my attorneys? To ask questions about a lawsuit that I’m obviously,” he pauses. Sitting upright again, he motions his hands toward the ceiling. “Not handling?”
“As I understand it,” Dick continues on, ignoring Tyler’s protest. “You were terminated wrongfully with the added caveat of public humiliation?”
“What would you call it?” Tyler asks defiantly.
“That’s not up to me Mr. Norrie,” Dick answers as he leans back in his chair. “That’s up to the Southern District court of New York.”
Tyler clasps his hands and places them on the table in front of him as his shit eating grin creases his lips. “Richard,” he begins as he leans forward. “You’re not here to ask me questions. You’re here to buy me off.”
“Now that you mention it,” Dick says. “What would it take to get you to drop this suit?”
Tyler scoffs at the question. Dick reaches into his jacket and pulls out a check. Laying it on the table, he taps it with his index finger.
“The man I work for…”
“Thaddeus Duke,” Tyler interrupts.
“Is prepared to offer you a generous sum if you drop this case,” Dick concludes as he slides the check across the table.
Tyler eyes the check for a moment, then back into Dick’s eyes. “Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on?”
Dick doesn’t answer.
“Pretty boy billionaire lost control of OCW because of my suit,” Tyler carries on. “There’s a Strader running his company now and I don’t care how many other Strader’s she fires, it’s got him all twisted up.
“He has zero hope of regaining control of OCW so long as this suit is active. And I know that, because I know Thaddeus Duke… better… than you.”
Again, Dick says nothing. Tyler picks up the check and reads the amount with his eyes.
“Let me ask you some questions,” Tyler begins again. “How much do you think OCW is worth?”
Dick still doesn’t answer.
“Better yet, how about Lions Guard Entertainment? Or his LFL franchise? Even better still, how many billions is Thaddeus Duke worth?
“You come to me with a lowball offer like 1.5 million and expect me to jump all over it?”
The two negotiators stare each other down for several excruciating moments.
“I’ll drop the suit,” Tyler relents. “He can keep his damn wrestling promotion, his football team, he can keep his fucking fortune. On one condition.”
“And what might that be?” Dick asks of him.
“I’ll drop it, if he gets me the hell out of this FUCKING! SHIT HOLE!”
Without replying, Dick stands up and starts to walk away.
“What’s my answer, Richard?” Tyler calls out to him.
Dick stops and turns before taking a few steps forward.
“Ask him yourself,” Dick answers before turning and walking away.
Tyler sits there with my check in his hand watching as Dick walks away from him. Inside my jacket pocket I pull a joint from a tin. Lighting it with a zippo, Tyler is startled to hear something behind him. He turns to look over his shoulder just in time for me to close the lighter and slip it back into my pocket. Taking a nice long hit of the joint, predominantly to calm my anxiety, the cherry glows bright red.
“Shit,” Tyler mutters under his breath as I step toward the light.
“Did that public humiliation hurt your feelings Tyler?” I ask of him. To which he doesn’t answer. Instead, all he can do is look at me. “You truly don’t think sellin’ out my son warranted at least that much?”
“He was never in any real danger,” he protests.
“How do you know that?” I ask if my former friend.
“Easton’s a fuckin’ pussy,” he replies quickly. “He’d have never hurt him.”
As the calming effects of my medicinal marijuana begin to take hold, I lean against the table beside Tyler and offer him a hit. He looks up at me a moment then eagerly grabs the joint and takes a hit before handing it back.
“You know I went easy on you,” I say to him quietly, but he says nothing. “On live television with the world watching. Cameras rolling… I mean think about. Had I chosen to do things discreetly, out of the public eye… we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Puff, puff, pass.
“We both know that’s true,” I say to my former friend as I lean off the table and grab the chair Dick vacated. Dragging it across the floor, I turn it backwards and sit with my arms leaning against the top of the backrest.
“Doing what I did in public, was mercy,” I tell the hacker man.
“Mercy?” he scoffs.
“If you think it wasn’t,” I pause for a brief second. “Then not only do you not know me as well as you think you do Tyler, but you also have not been paying attention.”
Tyler looks at me, but we both fall quiet for a few minutes.
“I thought we were friends,” Tyler cuts through the silence. “You and Lauren, Sebastian and Sloane,” he pauses. “I guess I was always destined to be that fifth wheel. The friend no one acknowledges…”
“I defended you,” I interrupt him. “So many people took a verbal shit on me for being your friend and I never wavered. Not for a second. You gave me my life back. Because of you, I can raise my kids and be the father they deserved.
“Lissie thought it was wrong of me, that it somehow meant that I was ‘less than’ simply because I defended a man that released naked pics of her but let’s be real… She’s slept with half the industry. Myself included. Everyone has already seen her naked.
“But I took that heat, because I thought you were worth it. I thought, here’s this dude that’s branded as a piece of shit. That’s mocked and laughed at by the rest of the industry and I’ve been there.
“Entirely unsolicited, you entered my life when I needed someone just a little extra. You made sure I lived and I thought there’s no way this guy is just all…” My voice trails off. “Was I wrong?”
Tyler looks up at me. “Doesn’t matter much now, does it?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “What does matter, is why Sebastian was here a few weeks ago.”
You could almost see a flicker in Tyler’s eyes. A flicker both of amusement and of caution.
“You know about that?” he asks.
“Did you really think that you’d do what you did and I wouldn’t keep eyes on you 24/7?” I ask of him but he doesn’t answer. “Did you think they just let me in here unabated?”
Tyler shrugs his shoulders.
“I’ve been watching you since the moment you were escorted out of the arena in Toronto.”
“So, he didn’t tell you…” Tyler concludes on his own. “I could tell you why, Thad. But you’re gonna get me out of here first.”
“No that’s not how this is gonna work,” I argue. “You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know and then I’ll decide if you’ve given me enough to get you out of here.
“Do we have a deal?”
Tyler sits quietly for a minute before I hand him the joint.
“He called me a few weeks before, asking about spyware,” he says before taking a hit. “He wanted something that could track you.”
That’s certainly unsettling.
“He doesn’t trust you,” Tyler pauses while trying to gauge my reaction, though I give him none. “Not just you, Sloane too.”
I shift my eyes to meet his.
“Seb thinks that if given the right opportunity,” he pauses for effect. “That you’d both cross the line.”
He’s just overplayed his hand. “Thanks Tyler,” I say to him as I stand up from the chair.
“That’s it?” he asks incredulously. “There’s so much more!”
“There might be, but it doesn’t matter now,” I say to him. “You could get me to believe that he might distrust me. But if you think you could get me to think he distrusts Sloane, then you really don’t know what it is you’re up against.”
“You’d fuck her, you know?” he says as I start to walk away from him causing me to stop. “I’ve seen enough to know that… so would she.”
Quickly I make my way back to Cypher and stand almost directly in front of him. He stands up. All five foot nine of unimpressive, ordinary Tyler Norrie.
“I’ve never hidden my desire to do it,” I tell him. “Not from Seb, not from Sloane. It does create awkward situations and I admit that. What you don’t understand is loyalty. If you think that she, or I, would betray that for a few hours of incredible fun, then you truly are in way over your head here.”
I’ve held back as long as I could. With quickness, I send my right fist into his gut. Tyler doubles over and coughs and grunts before falling to his hands and knees.
“Without loyalty Tyler,” I kneel down beside him. “You never could’ve been one of us. You overplayed your hand and now Tyler, I know I can wait it out and let Sebastian come to me about why he was here.
“Because I trust that he won’t betray me. Just like I won’t betray him. Like Sloane won’t betray him. Because that’s what love is, Tyler.”
Standing up I start to make my final exit.
“Enjoy the rest of your days Tyler,” I call out as I straighten up my jacket while I walk. “Because even when you are a free man, you’re never truly free.”
Sometimes, you don’t know what you got until its gone. In fact, sometimes you don’t even realize how much you miss something until you do it again and all those feelings come roaring back into your consciousness. When I bought OCW, I was determined to stay out of the ring. While recovering from surgery certainly made it a lot easier, the desire still burned as hot as it ever did. Over time, you get used to not being an active competitor.
Then Easton Alexander happened.
Being back in the ring for the first time in several months, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t butterflies fluttering around. Setting the events that led to Thad versus Easton aside, when I felt them, I knew it was time. Before any match, I’ve always had those butterflies of excitement.
That one night return notwithstanding, how would it look if the owner of the company was dog walking the majority of the roster?
Enter Cypher and his wrongful termination lawsuit. It was a blessing in disguise to lose autonomous control of OCW. I no longer have my fingers on the book. If I return to the ring now and I’m still dog walking the roster like I inevitably will, the only thing they have to bitch about, is the cunt booking matches.
I’m free and clear. No one can say a god damn thing when I walk into the Rumble in the Bronx at number one, and walk out as the clear and incontrovertible winner while simultaneously becoming the undisputed number one contender to the OCW title.
The only question that will remain at the close of the Rumble is, will I use it? Will I cash in my opportunity on the title so cherished? The one prop in this company that tells you how good you are? See, I’ve had eleven championships over my six years in this business. I’ve held a world title. I’ve had tag titles. I’ve held everything in between and what I don’t need is a belt in order to prove how good I am.
That begs the question though doesn’t it? If I’m so good and I don’t need a belt for acknowledgment, if I’m gonna dog walk the roster like I say I will, then why enter the Rumble at all? Why not just sit back on the sidelines and watch the chips fall where they may? Why not hold my own chips and take my time, one by one, and pick apart every single number one contender that this event will no doubt produce?
The answer is simple.
I’m walking into the Bronx and besting each and every man and woman on the OCW roster simply because I can. Simply because not a one of you has the extra gear that I possess. Not a one of you can stand toe to toe with me in the center of any ring, not just OCW’s, and beat me.
Do not make the mistake of listening to what I’m saying here today and think that it’s purely cockiness. While I’ll admit there’s a whole lot of that, I can assure you that it’s wholly a measure of self confidence that the fragile egos within these halls just do not possess.
This industry is filled with men and women talking a good game and pretending to show this air of confidence. What it is, is a thin wall of veneer that’s very easily broken. I’ve made a career out of breaking down those walls and I do not care in the slightest when you start hating me all over again because you can’t beat me.
I have lived in rarified air my entire life. People have hated me for it all my life. They long for what I have. They watch and wish they were as athletically gifted as I am. They sit in their envy of the talent that I possess. I am of a different breed. I have confidence that can not be broken. I have a will to win that can not be beaten.
And if you don’t yet, you’ll hate me for it soon.
For shits and giggles, what if someone got lucky and bounced me from the Rumble? What if at some point in time, I do slip up and get my shoulders pinned to the mat? Do I go home and throw lamps at my wife? Do I sulk and complain behind closed doors? Do I quit and take my talents somewhere where the competition is lighter?
That’s not me.
I acknowledge my failure, then I get back to work by correcting my mistake. What I don’t need, what I’ve never needed, was anyone coming up to me and kissing my ass. I’ve never needed anyone to remind me how good I am because believe me, I always know how good I am. I have never needed anyone to talk me out of abandoning my contract.
That shit’s for the weak.
And I’m not weak.
The real... God Mode just showed in OCW.
This one… it hurts.
“We’re here boss,” Dick says to me as the car slows to a stop. Just about startling me from my own skin, I had been lost inside my own head. Richard Small, otherwise known as ‘Dick’, was once my chief of staff. Now he’s the President of Lion’s Guard Entertainment and running my entire empire. Well, he’s President in name only. Most of my business ventures fall under that umbrella. He’s essentially my proxy when I’m predisposed elsewhere.
“Should I have him wait?” Dick asks as I hesitate to exit the car.
“Nah,” I answer after a moment. Together, Dick and I make our way from the limousine to the awaiting helicopter. Entering the chopper, I sit quietly and stare out the window as the engine winds up and the rotors turn.
“Mr. Duke,” the pilot calls to me but I pay him no mind as I continue to stare blankly.
“Thad,” Dick nudges me, breaking my gaze before motioning to the headset.
Snapping to it, I put the headset over my ears.
“You’re gonna wanna strap in,” the pilot reminds me. “Gets dark early this time of year and we’re running out of daylight.”
The skids were off the pavement before I managed to strap in for the sixty mile flight to San Francisco. This pilot is in one hell of a hurry because he steered sharply to the left while we were only ten or fifteen feet off the ground.
“How long we got, Captain?” I ask of the pilot.
“About twenty minutes,” he answers. “Relax man, take a load off. We’ll be there before you know it.”
Relaxing certainly isn’t in the cards. It’s twenty minutes of intentional internal solitude. It’s twenty minutes of thinking impure thoughts. It’s twenty minutes of filling up my rage meter. It’s twenty minutes of me talking myself in and out of my worst impulses.
It was never supposed to be this way. This was never supposed to happen. He was my friend. I tried to treat him like my own flesh and blood like I do to every single one of my friends and maybe… just maybe that’s on me. Sebastian Everett-Bryce the third has betrayed me and now I need to find out why.
Did my flirtation with Sloane Taylor really drive him to this? It’s innocent as hell, but no one will let him believe that that’s the case. Did that bother him so bad that he’d take the blade of brotherhood and shove it straight through my back?
Before long, the island comes into view.
Alcatraz Island. Sebastian was here just a couple weeks back and I don’t know why. What I do know is that he met with my enemy and that… fucking hurts. He had nothing but air and opportunity to come clean. He’s always been able to come to me with anything for any reason. Yet he chose not to tell me. He chose to keep me in the dark. He chose to violate my trust.
‘But why?’ I ask myself as the pilot lands the chopper on the roof of the old prison.
As Dick and I exit the chopper, we’re met by a uniformed guard armed to the teeth.
“Where is he?” Dick asks of him as we walk across the roof toward the door.
“In the main corridor,” he answers while holding out his hand.
Dick rolls his eyes as he reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a fat envelope stuffed full of hundred dollar bills. This deal set me back ten thousand dollars but the prospect of finding answers means it was well worth the cost. Dick stops before we enter through the door.
“Is he dangerous?” Dick asks of the guard.
He doesn’t respond immediately as he looks back and forth between us. “Not physically,” he replies.
“So he poses no threat?” he asks the guard.
“To him?” he points to me with his thumb over his shoulder. “Nah. To you? Stay on the other side of the table.”
Proceeding through the door, Dick and I make our way down the old rickety iron spiral staircase. As the anticipation mounts, my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest. Not out of nervousness or any sort of fear, but out of pure unadulterated anxiety. To be clear, I have suffered anxiety since I was a teenager. While it’s under control about 95% of the time, it’s the other 5% that gives me concern.
Emptying out on the ground floor, despite it still being daylight, the interior of the old dilapidated prison remains very dark. Standing in the darkness, we can see the man we’re meant to meet down at the other end beneath an overhead light that illuminates he and his immediate surroundings but not much else.
As planned, Dick heads toward him using the center of the main corridor. I remain off to the side and proceed quietly among the old uninhabited cells entirely cloaked in darkness.
“Who are you?” he asks but Dick doesn’t immediately answer. “Guards!” the man yells out.
“Relax, Mr. Norrie,” Dick says as he takes a seat at the table across from Cypher.
Despite my worst impulse, I remain quiet as a mouse and hidden as I make my way behind Tyler.
“My name is Richard Small,” Dick finally answers him. “I represent Lion’s Guard Entertainment.”
“So?” Cypher replies cockily.
“Mr. Norrie,” Dick begins. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions regarding your wrongful termination suit against OCW.”
Tyler’s chair grinds against the pavement as he leans forward. “You flew 3,000 miles unannounced? Without consulting my attorneys? To ask questions about a lawsuit that I’m obviously,” he pauses. Sitting upright again, he motions his hands toward the ceiling. “Not handling?”
“As I understand it,” Dick continues on, ignoring Tyler’s protest. “You were terminated wrongfully with the added caveat of public humiliation?”
“What would you call it?” Tyler asks defiantly.
“That’s not up to me Mr. Norrie,” Dick answers as he leans back in his chair. “That’s up to the Southern District court of New York.”
Tyler clasps his hands and places them on the table in front of him as his shit eating grin creases his lips. “Richard,” he begins as he leans forward. “You’re not here to ask me questions. You’re here to buy me off.”
“Now that you mention it,” Dick says. “What would it take to get you to drop this suit?”
Tyler scoffs at the question. Dick reaches into his jacket and pulls out a check. Laying it on the table, he taps it with his index finger.
“The man I work for…”
“Thaddeus Duke,” Tyler interrupts.
“Is prepared to offer you a generous sum if you drop this case,” Dick concludes as he slides the check across the table.
Tyler eyes the check for a moment, then back into Dick’s eyes. “Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on?”
Dick doesn’t answer.
“Pretty boy billionaire lost control of OCW because of my suit,” Tyler carries on. “There’s a Strader running his company now and I don’t care how many other Strader’s she fires, it’s got him all twisted up.
“He has zero hope of regaining control of OCW so long as this suit is active. And I know that, because I know Thaddeus Duke… better… than you.”
Again, Dick says nothing. Tyler picks up the check and reads the amount with his eyes.
“Let me ask you some questions,” Tyler begins again. “How much do you think OCW is worth?”
Dick still doesn’t answer.
“Better yet, how about Lions Guard Entertainment? Or his LFL franchise? Even better still, how many billions is Thaddeus Duke worth?
“You come to me with a lowball offer like 1.5 million and expect me to jump all over it?”
The two negotiators stare each other down for several excruciating moments.
“I’ll drop the suit,” Tyler relents. “He can keep his damn wrestling promotion, his football team, he can keep his fucking fortune. On one condition.”
“And what might that be?” Dick asks of him.
“I’ll drop it, if he gets me the hell out of this FUCKING! SHIT HOLE!”
Without replying, Dick stands up and starts to walk away.
“What’s my answer, Richard?” Tyler calls out to him.
Dick stops and turns before taking a few steps forward.
“Ask him yourself,” Dick answers before turning and walking away.
Tyler sits there with my check in his hand watching as Dick walks away from him. Inside my jacket pocket I pull a joint from a tin. Lighting it with a zippo, Tyler is startled to hear something behind him. He turns to look over his shoulder just in time for me to close the lighter and slip it back into my pocket. Taking a nice long hit of the joint, predominantly to calm my anxiety, the cherry glows bright red.
“Shit,” Tyler mutters under his breath as I step toward the light.
“Did that public humiliation hurt your feelings Tyler?” I ask of him. To which he doesn’t answer. Instead, all he can do is look at me. “You truly don’t think sellin’ out my son warranted at least that much?”
“He was never in any real danger,” he protests.
“How do you know that?” I ask if my former friend.
“Easton’s a fuckin’ pussy,” he replies quickly. “He’d have never hurt him.”
As the calming effects of my medicinal marijuana begin to take hold, I lean against the table beside Tyler and offer him a hit. He looks up at me a moment then eagerly grabs the joint and takes a hit before handing it back.
“You know I went easy on you,” I say to him quietly, but he says nothing. “On live television with the world watching. Cameras rolling… I mean think about. Had I chosen to do things discreetly, out of the public eye… we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Puff, puff, pass.
“We both know that’s true,” I say to my former friend as I lean off the table and grab the chair Dick vacated. Dragging it across the floor, I turn it backwards and sit with my arms leaning against the top of the backrest.
“Doing what I did in public, was mercy,” I tell the hacker man.
“Mercy?” he scoffs.
“If you think it wasn’t,” I pause for a brief second. “Then not only do you not know me as well as you think you do Tyler, but you also have not been paying attention.”
Tyler looks at me, but we both fall quiet for a few minutes.
“I thought we were friends,” Tyler cuts through the silence. “You and Lauren, Sebastian and Sloane,” he pauses. “I guess I was always destined to be that fifth wheel. The friend no one acknowledges…”
“I defended you,” I interrupt him. “So many people took a verbal shit on me for being your friend and I never wavered. Not for a second. You gave me my life back. Because of you, I can raise my kids and be the father they deserved.
“Lissie thought it was wrong of me, that it somehow meant that I was ‘less than’ simply because I defended a man that released naked pics of her but let’s be real… She’s slept with half the industry. Myself included. Everyone has already seen her naked.
“But I took that heat, because I thought you were worth it. I thought, here’s this dude that’s branded as a piece of shit. That’s mocked and laughed at by the rest of the industry and I’ve been there.
“Entirely unsolicited, you entered my life when I needed someone just a little extra. You made sure I lived and I thought there’s no way this guy is just all…” My voice trails off. “Was I wrong?”
Tyler looks up at me. “Doesn’t matter much now, does it?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation. “What does matter, is why Sebastian was here a few weeks ago.”
You could almost see a flicker in Tyler’s eyes. A flicker both of amusement and of caution.
“You know about that?” he asks.
“Did you really think that you’d do what you did and I wouldn’t keep eyes on you 24/7?” I ask of him but he doesn’t answer. “Did you think they just let me in here unabated?”
Tyler shrugs his shoulders.
“I’ve been watching you since the moment you were escorted out of the arena in Toronto.”
“So, he didn’t tell you…” Tyler concludes on his own. “I could tell you why, Thad. But you’re gonna get me out of here first.”
“No that’s not how this is gonna work,” I argue. “You’re gonna tell me what I wanna know and then I’ll decide if you’ve given me enough to get you out of here.
“Do we have a deal?”
Tyler sits quietly for a minute before I hand him the joint.
“He called me a few weeks before, asking about spyware,” he says before taking a hit. “He wanted something that could track you.”
That’s certainly unsettling.
“He doesn’t trust you,” Tyler pauses while trying to gauge my reaction, though I give him none. “Not just you, Sloane too.”
I shift my eyes to meet his.
“Seb thinks that if given the right opportunity,” he pauses for effect. “That you’d both cross the line.”
He’s just overplayed his hand. “Thanks Tyler,” I say to him as I stand up from the chair.
“That’s it?” he asks incredulously. “There’s so much more!”
“There might be, but it doesn’t matter now,” I say to him. “You could get me to believe that he might distrust me. But if you think you could get me to think he distrusts Sloane, then you really don’t know what it is you’re up against.”
“You’d fuck her, you know?” he says as I start to walk away from him causing me to stop. “I’ve seen enough to know that… so would she.”
Quickly I make my way back to Cypher and stand almost directly in front of him. He stands up. All five foot nine of unimpressive, ordinary Tyler Norrie.
“I’ve never hidden my desire to do it,” I tell him. “Not from Seb, not from Sloane. It does create awkward situations and I admit that. What you don’t understand is loyalty. If you think that she, or I, would betray that for a few hours of incredible fun, then you truly are in way over your head here.”
I’ve held back as long as I could. With quickness, I send my right fist into his gut. Tyler doubles over and coughs and grunts before falling to his hands and knees.
“Without loyalty Tyler,” I kneel down beside him. “You never could’ve been one of us. You overplayed your hand and now Tyler, I know I can wait it out and let Sebastian come to me about why he was here.
“Because I trust that he won’t betray me. Just like I won’t betray him. Like Sloane won’t betray him. Because that’s what love is, Tyler.”
Standing up I start to make my final exit.
“Enjoy the rest of your days Tyler,” I call out as I straighten up my jacket while I walk. “Because even when you are a free man, you’re never truly free.”
Sometimes, you don’t know what you got until its gone. In fact, sometimes you don’t even realize how much you miss something until you do it again and all those feelings come roaring back into your consciousness. When I bought OCW, I was determined to stay out of the ring. While recovering from surgery certainly made it a lot easier, the desire still burned as hot as it ever did. Over time, you get used to not being an active competitor.
Then Easton Alexander happened.
Being back in the ring for the first time in several months, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t butterflies fluttering around. Setting the events that led to Thad versus Easton aside, when I felt them, I knew it was time. Before any match, I’ve always had those butterflies of excitement.
That one night return notwithstanding, how would it look if the owner of the company was dog walking the majority of the roster?
Enter Cypher and his wrongful termination lawsuit. It was a blessing in disguise to lose autonomous control of OCW. I no longer have my fingers on the book. If I return to the ring now and I’m still dog walking the roster like I inevitably will, the only thing they have to bitch about, is the cunt booking matches.
I’m free and clear. No one can say a god damn thing when I walk into the Rumble in the Bronx at number one, and walk out as the clear and incontrovertible winner while simultaneously becoming the undisputed number one contender to the OCW title.
The only question that will remain at the close of the Rumble is, will I use it? Will I cash in my opportunity on the title so cherished? The one prop in this company that tells you how good you are? See, I’ve had eleven championships over my six years in this business. I’ve held a world title. I’ve had tag titles. I’ve held everything in between and what I don’t need is a belt in order to prove how good I am.
That begs the question though doesn’t it? If I’m so good and I don’t need a belt for acknowledgment, if I’m gonna dog walk the roster like I say I will, then why enter the Rumble at all? Why not just sit back on the sidelines and watch the chips fall where they may? Why not hold my own chips and take my time, one by one, and pick apart every single number one contender that this event will no doubt produce?
The answer is simple.
I’m walking into the Bronx and besting each and every man and woman on the OCW roster simply because I can. Simply because not a one of you has the extra gear that I possess. Not a one of you can stand toe to toe with me in the center of any ring, not just OCW’s, and beat me.
Do not make the mistake of listening to what I’m saying here today and think that it’s purely cockiness. While I’ll admit there’s a whole lot of that, I can assure you that it’s wholly a measure of self confidence that the fragile egos within these halls just do not possess.
This industry is filled with men and women talking a good game and pretending to show this air of confidence. What it is, is a thin wall of veneer that’s very easily broken. I’ve made a career out of breaking down those walls and I do not care in the slightest when you start hating me all over again because you can’t beat me.
I have lived in rarified air my entire life. People have hated me for it all my life. They long for what I have. They watch and wish they were as athletically gifted as I am. They sit in their envy of the talent that I possess. I am of a different breed. I have confidence that can not be broken. I have a will to win that can not be beaten.
And if you don’t yet, you’ll hate me for it soon.
For shits and giggles, what if someone got lucky and bounced me from the Rumble? What if at some point in time, I do slip up and get my shoulders pinned to the mat? Do I go home and throw lamps at my wife? Do I sulk and complain behind closed doors? Do I quit and take my talents somewhere where the competition is lighter?
That’s not me.
I acknowledge my failure, then I get back to work by correcting my mistake. What I don’t need, what I’ve never needed, was anyone coming up to me and kissing my ass. I’ve never needed anyone to remind me how good I am because believe me, I always know how good I am. I have never needed anyone to talk me out of abandoning my contract.
That shit’s for the weak.
And I’m not weak.
The real... God Mode just showed in OCW.