CHAPTER EIGHT
KIM
She'd decided to go for a run that morning. While pausing to drink some water, Kim noticed someone watching her. He smiled when she caught him and Kim couldn't help but notice how cute he looked when he grinned. She smiled back at him before closing up her water bottle. She was about to start running again when someone nearly ran her over with a bicycle.
Kim felt strong arms pulling her out of the bike's path. She let out a gasp of shock before looking into her rescuer's face. "Thanks," she managed to say to the guy who'd been watching her.
"Any time," he said sweetly. He looked deep into her eyes and Kim melted. His eyes were gorgeous. "I'm Jack," he added.
"Kim..."
"I hope I don't sound totally creepy, but can I buy you lunch?"
Kim considered this. He was a complete stranger, but he'd just saved her from a homicidal bicyclist. Having lunch with the guy seemed like the least she could do.
"Sure," she replied.
They headed to a food cart in the park. Considering they were both dressed to run and were fairly sweaty, this was an acceptable place to have lunch. Jack ordered her a chicken shish kabob and a water before ordering himself two hotdogs and a diet soda.
"So, tell me about yourself," he said as they sat on a bench together.
"I'm from Yonkers," Kim began. "I spend a lot of time in Philly. I have a twin sister."
"Is that your excuse to get out of trouble or is it true?" Jack asked with a laugh.
"It's true," Kim said with a grin. She pulled up a photo of the two of them on her phone. "That's Briana."
"What's with the matching outfits?"
"This was right before a match..."
"A match?"
Kim hesitated. "Um... We're sort of professional wrestlers." This might be the part where he ran away.
He stared at her. "You're kidding me."
"No, I'm completely serious." It was sort of nice to meet someone who didn't know she was famous. "My dad is Tommy Dreamer."
"Dreamer... Didn't he do Impractical Jokers a few times?"
"Yep... And he's a really famous wrestler."
"I never watched much wrestling... I know Hulk Hogan and the Undertaker... And that Cena guy. That's about it... Wait, the Rock used to be a wrestler, too, right?"
Kim grinned. "It's nice to know you're not talking to me just because I'm famous," she said.
"Nope... I'm talking to you because you nearly got killed today... And you have a really cute smile."
Kim blushed as she smiled harder. "So, what about you?" She asked.
"Well, my name is Jack Milner. I'm twenty-five and a Sagittarius. I like bad movies, cheesy pop music, and saving the lives of girls with cute smiles." He paused. "I've lived in New York since I was eighteen. I came here to go to the New York Film Academy. Before that, I lived a very humble life in a tiny town in Connecticut. I love movies and want to be a director, hence my choice of Alma Mata." He paused. "Anything else you'd like to know?"
"Anything you want to share," she said. "Do you have any questions for me?"
He paused thoughtfully, then smiled. "Well, I have some qualifications for hanging out with me... Do you like pina coladas?"
"They're not bad."
"And getting caught in the rain?"
Kim stared at him. What sort of questions were these? And why did they seem familiar when paired together?
Suddenly, he burst into song. "If you're not into yoga... If you have half a brain... If you like making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape, I'm the love that you've looked for. Write to me and escape..."
Kim was grinning now. He was a goofball, and she liked that. Besides, he had a really good voice. She could roll with this. She sang her reply."Yes, I like pina coladas. Getting caught in the rain. I'm not much into health food. I am into champagne. I've got to meet you by tomorrow, noon, and cut through all this red tape, at a bar called O'Malley's where we'll plan our escape!"
Jack's face lit up. "You like cheesy songs, too!" He declared. "Kim, I think we're soulmates!"
"Well, Joey Ryan enters to that song, so I've known the words forever," Kim replied with a laugh.
"Joey Ryan sounds like he has good taste."
"He's a weirdo, but he's a friend of my dad's." Kim liked Joey. When he broke kayfabe and stopped talking about... well... Joey Ryan's Penis... He was actually a really nice guy.
"So, Kim... Do you think we might be able to do this again? Properly, wearing more clothing and less sweat, at a real restaurant?" Jack asked.
"I think I'd like that," Kim said. She took his cell phone and entered her number. "Call me anytime."
Jack smiled. "Soon," he promised. "For now, would you like me to walk you home? And it's totally okay to say no. I know we just met."
She smiled. "That's sweet of you, but not yet," she said. "Maybe next time. Thanks for lunch." With that, she took off running again. She had an extra bounce in her step now.
BRIANA
She was beating up the punching bag in the basement when she heard someone join her. "Damn! Who pissed you off?" Phil asked.
Briana didn't stop hitting the bag as she replied, "I'm picturing the pageant boy's face."
"Remind me to stay on your good side. You got a hellova right hook there, Briana."
"Damn right I do."
She finished her workout before turning to Phil. "Did you want something?" She asked.
"A distraction. I'm... I just need to be doing shit," Phil replied.
Briana realized he was twitching somewhat badly. "You're jonesing," she said flatly.
"Yeah... I haven't touched anything in days... But I miss it, Bri. And my body just ain't used to it."
"How bad is it?"
"I'd kill for a fucking methadone clinic... Or just, like, one tab of acid... Fuck, I'd take a joint right now just to take the edge off."
"So take a shot of vodka or something."
"I got drunk last night. It didn't help."
She wanted to offer a dismissive, snarky response, but she could tell Phil was actually trying not to break his promise to her father.
"Come here," she said.
"Okay..." He joined her at the punching bag.
Briana pulled out another pair of gloves. "Hit this," she said.
Phil stared at her. "I don't box," he said.
"You need an outlet. This is a good one." She moved back. "Hit the bag."
Phil shrugged and threw a punch. It barely did anything. "Dude, you can hit harder than that," Briana teased him. He set his hands back up and hit the bag harder. "Again," Briana instructed.
Slowly, Phil stopped holding back. Eventually, he hit the bag so hard, it swang back at him with enough force to fling him into a wall if he got hit. Briana grabbed the bag, wrapping her arms around it to slow its momentum.
Phil stared at her, breathing hard and looking both furious and incredibly sad. Briana had never seen vulnerability in his eyes before.
"Whose face did you see?" She asked gently after a minute.
"My father's... My dealer's..." He paused. "Mine," He added numbly.
"Phil-"
He took off the gloves and handed them to her. "Thanks, Bri," he said abruptly before practically running out of the basement.
She was startled and unsure of how to react to what had just happened. She'd always dismissed Phil as Sabu's asshole druggie son, but it seemed there might be a lot more to him beneath the surface. She hated how much she wanted to figure him out all of a sudden.
She nearly went after him, but Kim came downstairs. She was grinning a little too much. "Who's the guy?" Briana asked knowingly.
"His name's Jack. He's really sweet, and he saved me from getting hit by a bike, and he bought me lunch... He even sang the Pina Colada song to me... He's adorable, Bri!"
"Any guy who uses Escape to pick up a girl is a creeper," Briana said firmly.
"It's a good song... It's Joey's entrance music," Kim protested.
"Exhibit A! Joey's the king of creepers and perverts."
"Whatever. I think he's great."
"Of course you do." Briana sighed, already certain she'd be picking up the fragile pieces of her twin's heart when this ended badly. She loved Kim, but she was way too trusting.
ABBY
She was sitting in Carrie's room watching the video that had already gone viral. "Our parents rock," Abby said.
"If that doesn't help us, nothing will," Carrie agreed.
"We need more, though. Everyone's listening, and WWE is bleeding, but if we don't strike again, over and over, they'll recover. They're hurt. They're vulnerable. It's time to bring them to their knees."
"What are you thinking?"
"Propaganda videos. Random promos speaking out against them, bringing more and more attention to our cause. Tweets that will spread like wildfire…"
Abby began typing a tweet. Carrie swallows and Abby's gonna grab the pageant boy by the pussy!
Two minutes later, Abby's phone rang. She picked up, saying, "Abby Styles here..."
"Abby... It's Oscar from Groundbreaking Pro," Oscar said.
"Hey, Osc, what's up?" She asked cheerfully. She often worked on commentary for their promotion. GBP Wrestling wasn't huge, but their shows could be fun. They were usually open to trying anything once.
"Look, Abby... Could you...? I mean... We need you to take that tweet down."
Abby was stunned. "Seriously? But you guys never shy from controversy!"
"It's a sexual assault joke, Abby. We can't allow people to think we support that..."
"Dude... It's the same reference that made my dad so much more infamous than he already was. It's not like I'm supporting rape. I'm just making a reference to my dad, who was making a political joke."
"I'm sorry... We need you to do this. Someone just threatened to pull one of our guests because of this."
"Who?"
"Ricky the Dragon Steamboat."
"He has a Legends contract with WWE. They're not pulling him for my comment, Oscar. They're pulling him because I'm standing with ECW."
"Abby, we need this deal."
"I get it... And it's fine. But I won't delete my tweet. And I won't stop fighting for ECW. Good luck to you, Oscar."
He sighed. "Good luck, Abby." He hung up.
Abby stared at her phone. "Is everything okay?" Carrie asked.
Abby slowly began to smile. "I did it," she said. "I broke Dad's record!" She started laughing. "I didn't expect it to be Oscar's promotion, but I'll take it."
"Congratulations," Carrie said with a laugh of her own. "Now what?"
"Now, let's really piss them off," Abby replied, a devilish grin on her face as she began plotting.
EVAN
He was sitting in Starbucks just drinking his mocha Frappuccino when he heard a commotion coming from outside. He stood up and saw two teenagers beating the crap out of another.
"Pussy!" One shouted. "Do you think queers bleed red?" He flung the kid into Evan's car.
Evan was instantly enraged, but not about the car. Although he'd never been one to get into physical fights, these boys were older and the kid they were attacking was terrified. He decided he had to do something, but he hated violence. Instead of hitting them with his fists, he used his words.
"Gentlemen, can't we settle this like civilized people?" He asked grandly.
"Mind your business!" One yelled.
"Stay outta this, White Boy," the other said.
"Actually, boys, my name is Evan Heyman, and what you're doing became my business the moment you tossed this fine young man into my car." He knew he should stop. They could have guns or knives or who knew what else, but Evan couldn't turn a blind eye to that terrified boy. The rainbow necklace around his neck told Evan he was genuinely being attacked for who he loved, and that was unacceptable.
"Evan Heyman... Wait, like... Like Paul Heyman's kid?" The first one asked, beginning to register who he actually was.
"One and the same," Evan confirmed.
"Yo, Homeboy rolls wit Lesnar and shit."
"Yeah, Uncle Brock comes around a lot. And if I tell him a couple of little idiots dented my car using my new friend here, he won't be pleased."
The thugs looked nervous now. "We was just playing," one insisted. "Let's go, man." He took his friend and ran.
"Hi," Evan said to the kid. He extended his hand to help him up off the sidewalk. "I'm Evan."
"I know," the kid replied. "I've seen you at indy shows."
"Ah, a fan with taste!" Evan declared. "What's your name?"
"Jerome."
"Well, Jerome... You're safe now, okay? I don't think they'll mess with you again. Are you okay?"
"I think so. Thank you."
"No problem. Would you like a caffeinated beverage? My treat."
"Sure, but... Why?"
"Because you're having a rough day, and Starbucks fixes everything." He smiled kindly at Jerome, who finally nodded and followed him back into Starbucks.
"Would Brock Lesnar really kick their asses?" Jerome asked once he had his coffee.
Evan laughed. "No, probably not... I may have embellished a little bit about how often Brock's actually around. He'd probably do it for Carrie, though. She can get pretty much anyone to do anything."
"Your sister's kind of awesome."
"Yes she is. Listen, Jerome, don't let assholes like that get you down. You're great the way you are. There's nothing wrong with you."
"Thanks for saying that... It's hard sometimes."
"It gets better. When you're older and ruling the world, they'll be in the gutter trying to claim they were your best friends. Just be awesome, Kid. Okay?"
"I'll try." Jerome paused. "Can we take a selfie?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'd be disappointed if we didn't," Evan replied. He posed with the kid and took a photo with his phone, too, before saying, "It was nice to meet you, Jerome. Good luck."
He walked away hoping Jerome would be alright. No one deserved to be harassed like that just because they were different. Evan had always tried to be a champion for those who needed it most. It was a key part of his nature, and he wasn't about to stop just because he was fairly famous now.
TURNER
He'd called Laura that morning. She proceeded to tell him to come by the house at one o'clock. Turner was parked outside struggling to motivate himself to get out of the car. "You need answers," he reminded himself. He stood up and rang the doorbell.
It was weirdly intimate to be meeting Laura at her home. She opened the door looking exhausted. He wondered if he'd caused her to lose sleep.
"Turner?" She asked.
"Hi," he said awkwardly.
She was staring at him. With a sigh, she finally said, "Come on in."
He followed her inside. There were pictures of his father on the walls. A wheelchair sat in the corner of the bedroom. It had an Axl Rotten t-shirt on it, as well as a rosary that dangled from the arm. Next to it sat a framed photo of his father and Balls Mahoney.
Laura followed his gaze. "He was very close to Jonny," she said. "I tried to reach out and be there for Gayle after she lost him."
He knew "Jonny" was referring to Balls, but could only assume Gayle was his widow. Balls and his father had died two months apart. Their widows had probably grown closer because of their shared losses.
"You look like him when you're thinking," Laura informed him. "Do you have any photos of your mother?"
Turner knew of only one he could access. He had posted a very old photo from his third birthday on Facebook and captioned it Hardcore Toddler. In it, his head was bleeding and he was laughing at the camera while his horrified mother stood beside him panicking. His uncle had snapped the picture right after Turner somehow climbed up onto the kitchen counter and jumped off it, hitting his head on a chair on the way down. The photo amused him, which was why he kept it up even though his mother was in it. He pulled it up now.
Laura looked at it and smiled sadly. "That's definitely a Brian reaction to cracking your head open," she said. Then, she sighed again. "And that's Janny. I know, because I have one photo of her... I dug it out after I got your message." She showed it to him.
Turner stared at it in fascination. His mother stood, smiling at the camera as his father kissed her stomach. On the back, it said, Pregnant!
"He knew?" Turner asked.
"She told him she was pregnant... He was so happy, Turner... But Brian had his issues... He came home high, and she was furious. She left him. She moved out and vanished, and about two months later, she sent him a letter claiming she'd had an abortion," Laura explained. She paused before adding, "Obviously, that was a very cruel lie... And it broke his heart. He was a mess when I met him."
"He… He wanted me." Turner was struggling to process what she was telling him.
"He did... Very much. He mourned losing you."
"That lying bitch..." Turner shook his head.
"I think he'd want you to have that," she said, motioning toward the photo. "And one other thing." She took a deep breath before pulling out a suitcase.
"What's that?" Turner asked.
"The last ring gear he ever used."
"Laura... You should keep that."
"It's just a painful memory for me, honestly. He got a terrible spinal injury while wearing those clothes... He was in that wheelchair, trying to get better... The rehab facility was trying to help him walk again, but... But he never got there. He died before the rehab worked."
"I'm sorry I brought this all back up for you," Turner said gently.
"It never goes away, Turner... But I know how much he loved you... How much he wanted to be your father... He'd want me to help you."
"Thank you..." He paused. "If you need anything, you have my number, okay?"
"You're a sweet boy... But I'm alright."
After an awkward goodbye, Turner left. He couldn't believe he now had an actual piece of his father in his car. More than that, Laura had given him proof. It wasn't a DNA test, but that photo was enough to convince him that his mother hadn't just been making it all up. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with the information. He knew in his heart it was time to tell everyone the truth.
