Post by Eden Morgan on Jul 11, 2013 22:54:52 GMT -5
July 10, 2013
Two days since Synergy and I’ve been right here. I can’t eat. I barely sleep, and when I do, all I see is him. I know it shouldn’t be that way. I’m the champion, the face of the company, and I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror. The roses keep coming, a countdown until we meet again, a reminder of everything that’s happened. Just seeing his writing on the notes makes me want to shove myself under the hottest running water I can find, just burn the flesh away until there’s nothing there for him to touch. That’s not rational. I need sleep. I need to eat. I need to train. But if it’s not him, it’s Chaos, mocking me, making his pointed little barbs about how I betrayed my family and allowed Jet and Travis to snow me. And Ooley-- I don’t even want to think about that right now, because the implications there hurt almost more than anything. Is he in the match because he actually wants the title, or is he here because neither Jet nor Travis have faith in me to retain?
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“She’s been locked up in her room since we got back from Chicago. I have no idea what she’s up to, but she hasn’t taken any food, and that has me worried.” Jet Somers leans back in his office chair, twirling a pen between his fingertips. His partner, Travis Pierce, sits across the desk from him, considering.
“Well, what do you expect? After the hell she went through physically and mentally, she expected to come home and relax. What does she see when she walks in? A rose from that bastard, Zane, and a note with a number and his name signed to it. The next day? Another one. She can’t even get away from him here.” Travis’ turns his head to the side, popping his neck in frustration.
“She won’t even talk to us, Trav. When has Edie ever stopped talking?” Jet looks around the room as if the answer will appear on the walls.
“When has she ever had a sadistic stalker on her ass? Or that white trash piece of shit Chaos running her down and calling her a whore every time she turns around? She could slap him with slander the way he runs his mouth.”
Jet nods.
“Something has to be done. At the rate she’s going, she won’t be physically able to even make it out to the ring, much less mentally prepared to do so.” The pen twirls faster and faster and Jet ponders the problem.
Travis’ mouth quirks to the side as he considers.
“We could always break down her door and drag her out. Knock some sense into her.”
Jet shakes his head.
“I’m thinking that could do more harm than good.”
Travis sighs and then perks up.
“Hey, isn’t that trainer coming soon? Ingalls?”
A sly smile creeps over Jet Somers’ face.
“Why, yes. Yes, he is.”
---------------------------------------------------
July 11, 2013
Another rose today. I’ve noticed something about them. They keep getting darker, by just a shade or two. And the number gets smaller. It’s a countdown to our day at Wrestlestock. I say “our day” like it’s something special, a beautiful day just for us. It’s not. If he doesn’t break me in half, Chaos will be waiting to finish the job, both of them with the blessings of my brother. The brother I supposedly betrayed. Why can’t anyone see that I’m the one who was betrayed? Before No Holds Barred, I was the only one to speak out against Jet. At the time, Jezebel and Cypress shrugged me off, said I was worrying needlessly. I was cautious. They mocked me. Yeah, Jet and I fought back and forth, but we grew closer as we fought and we developed a begrudging trust. Even then, Jez and Cypress were against me and they stood up for Jet. A few words later, and the script was flipped.
----------------------------------------------------
“So where’s Miss Morgan?” Jason Ingalls stands in a conference room at the PMN Headquarters in Atlanta, his luggage and equipment already brought up to a room set aside for him by one of the many assistants scurrying about the massive building.
Jet turns to close the door behind him, guaranteeing their privacy.
“She’s been indisposed.”
Jason raises an eyebrow.
“Indisposed? What does that mean exactly?”
Travis pipes up from the head of the table where he’s tossing a tennis ball in the air.
“Oh, you know, adverse… disinclined… sick, if those words were also too big for you.” Travis looks over at Jason and flashes a smile as if to say “Just kidding.”
Jason’s stare is unamused.
“I know what it means. What’s wrong with her?”
Jet and Travis share a look.
“We’re not sure. We were hoping you could shine some light on that subject for us.”
A confused look from Jason.
“How can I tell you that when I haven’t been around her since the last Synergy?”
Jet clears his throat.
“Uhh well… we haven’t been around her much either, seeing as how she’s been barricaded in her room since we returned here.”
Jason’s brows draw together.
“Has she been eating?”
Travis speaks up this time.
“Not so much, no. I hear she’s trying to watch her figure for her date with Zane, but that’s just the gossip.”
Jet shakes his head and Jason fixes him with an unamused look.
“You think that’s funny? After what Scott did to her in their last go round? Do you also laugh at Chaos’ attacks on her? Yeah, real funny, man. I doubt she laughed when you got your ass handed to you a few weeks ago. Nice looking out for her. With friends like you guys, who needs enemies?”
Jason shakes his head with disgust.
“Where’s her room?”
Jet opens the door and directs an assistant to take Mr. Ingalls directly to Eden Morgan. Jason shoots another glare their way before departing. Jet closes the door behind him, turning to see Travis’ amused grin, giving a half-smile of his own.
----------------------------------------------------
Jason stands outside Eden’s door, debating the best course of action. He was here to train her, make her stronger and tougher before her next match. She would need it. But this… he was ill-equipped to handle this. He sighs, and raises a hand to knock softly on the door. No need to alarm her.
No answer.
He knocks again, this time more firmly and he gets a response.
“Go away.”
He sets his jaw. Had he thought this would be easy? The only thing that kept him from banging on her door until it rattled was the sound of her voice. Fragile. Despondent. And completely unlike the girl who had confronted him so brazenly after practically being broken apart. What had changed? He knocks again.
“Eden, it’s Jason Ingalls. Athletic trainer. You remember our deal? Now, if you don’t open the door so we can get started on this, I won’t sign your release and you can watch from the sidelines while Chaos, Zane, and Ooley fight for your title. Is that what you want?”
He hears some movement from the other side of the door and the door opens a crack. He waits for it to open more, and when it doesn’t he pushes it open and steps inside.
The room is basically dark, the glow from a cell phone screen alerting him to Eden’s presence, curled into a ball on a couch. He starts to say something, but when she looks at him his voice freezes.
Dark shadows pool under her eyes, those eyes wide and haunted, an almost wild look to them. Her long dark hair is a mess, her skin much paler than usual, clad in what appears to be a pair of loose-fitting flannel pajama bottoms and a black tank top.
“Eden, what…”
He doesn’t get to finish as her cell phone rings and she jumps, almost dropping the phone. She starts to rock back and forth, her breathing coming in hitches. Her hands shake as she grasps at the phone, looking at the screen.
“I can’t answer it, it’s him again, I won’t do it!” She stares at the screen and suddenly, the call stops.
“Him who? Eden what the hell..”
The phone rings again and she continues to stare at the screen, no reaction this time.
“Are you going to answer that?” Jason approaches her slowly, carefully, watching her close.
Eden looks up at him, her eyes pleading, but her finger slides over the screen anyway, answering the call. A wolf howl comes through, loud and clear as she hits speakerphone, followed by the sound of a scratchy record. Jason’s eyes narrow.
“Hey there, little red riding hood,
You sure are lookin’ good,
You’re everything a Big, Bad Wolf could want…”
The song continues until Jason crosses the room and snatches the phone out of her hand, shutting it off. He looks down at it angrily, almost daring it to ring. He looks back at her as she hugs her knees to her chest.
“Zane?”
Eden just nods. He shakes his head.
“Answer me, Eden! With words!”
She swallows hard.
“Yeah. It was Zane.”
He squats in front of the couch, still holding onto the phone.
“How long has he been calling and doing this?”
She looks at him through tired, almost frantic eyes.
“Since last night. He either hangs up and calls right back or it’s that song. Over. And over. Again.”
“How did he get your number?”
She closes her eyes, a tear slipping from one. She turns her head so he can’t see that one tear. He holds back a smile. She still had some fight left. Good.
“Probably from Cypress, but there’s really a number of ways.”
Jason nods, baffled as to how a brother could do that to his sister.
“Why do you keep answering?”
Eden shakes her head.
“Because if I don’t, he’ll just keep calling. And calling. If I answer he’ll at least leave me alone for a little while.”
As if on cue, the phone rings again. Same number. Jason glares at the phone in his hand and then looks back up at Eden.
“Do you care if I smash it?”
She shakes her head and he raises his arm when a voice from the doorway stops him.
“I’ll take that. No need to destroy evidence.” Jet steps into the room, holding a hand out for the phone. He gives Eden a worried glance as he takes the phone and answers the call.
“…I’ll try to be satisfied
Just to walk close by your side
Maybe you’ll see things my way
Before we get to Grandma’s place…”
“Turn it off. Look at her face. Turn it off!” Jason yells over his shoulder at Jet who quickly shuts the call down and pockets the cell phone.
“I need to talk to Eden for a few minutes. Alone, if you don’t mind,” Jet doesn’t even look at Jason as he speak, watching Eden closely.
Jason, for his part, looks completely pissed off.
“No, I’m not going anywhere. Say what you have to say in front of me.” He leans against a wall, making it clear he’s not moving. Jet gives him a look.
“Fine. But don’t interrupt me.” His eyes seem to say more than his words, and Jason starts to feel a little uneasy as Jet moves closer to Eden, taking his place and squatting in front of her.
“Travis and I have been talking, and we don’t think you’re mentally capable of competing. I’m also heavily questioning whether this is where you need to be. This isn’t the life for you, Eden. You’re not strong enough.”
Eden looks fully at Jet for the first time, her eyes wide in surprise, tears filling them. She brushes them away quickly before they fall.
“Wh-what are you saying? You want me to leave? Quit?”
Jet shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter at all to him.
“I don’t want that, but the way things stand, it appears necessary. You’re just not cut out for this. I thought you were, but my mistake.”
Eden blinks at him in confusion.
“Don’t I get a say in this?”
Jet fixes her with a hard stare.
“I don’t know, do you? Because if you want a say in this, you need to suck it up. Quit being the victim, because that’s what you are right now. You’ve willingly made yourself Zane Scott’s victim and I thought you were stronger than that. You’ve disappointed me.”
Jet stands and looks down at Eden, who looks utterly lost. Jason stares in disbelief as Jet turns and starts to walk out, warning Jason with his eyes not to say anything.
“I can do this.” She whispers it.
“What was that?” Jet half turns in an almost bored manner.
“I can do this.” Her voice much stronger this time.
“Can you? Can you really, Edie? Because if you can, that’s great. But in order for you to do that, you have to leave your emotions and feelings at the door to this room. You can’t bring them with you, they have no place in that ring or in this business. They make you a victim, you make yourself a willing victim. There’s no strength in that. No honor, either. When you walk out this door, all that’s left is reaction and behavior. Let that be all you are. Forget the roses. Forget the phone. Forget everything. Except the win. Can you do it?” When she gives no response, he walks out of the room, Jason following close behind him, the door closing after them.
Travis waits outside the room, listening, joining with Jet and walking off down the hall when he exits.
“Hey! Wanna tell me what that was all about?!” Jason yells after him.
Jet and Travis don’t slow up or turn to him. Jet exhales slowly, rubbing his eyes. Travis claps him on the shoulder.
“You did what you had to do.”
Jet nods.
“Yeah. Now it’s up to her.”
---------------------------------------------------
July 12, 2013
What Jet said makes sense. I’ve been allowing Zane to get to me. I’ve been allowing Chaos to get to me. I’ve been allowing Cypress and Jez to get to me. I’ve laid down and been their victim. No more. They can’t hurt me any more than they already have.
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She’s already in the gym. That’s what he had been told, and so now Jason Ingalls, UGWC’s Head Athletic Trainer, makes his way down the various floors to the PMN gym. His thoughts race, no idea what he’ll find when he gets there. He pauses outside the doors, marveling at how this one girl had already managed to upend his normally very boring life, before shoving them open. And staring.
There, in the center of the room, stands Eden Morgan. Gone is the girl from the night before, fragile and weak. In her place stands a strong, proud woman, eyes cold and almost inhuman when she looks at him.
“You’re late. I’ve already started.”
He nods, speechless at her pristine, icy beauty.
“Right. Well, let’s get to it, then.”
Unnoticed by either of them, a camera in the corner turns, and seems to zoom in. From his office, Jet Somers watches, his semi-smile a sad one as he notes the lack of anything in her expression. But it had worked.
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July 13, 2013
Cypress, Chaos, and Jez. They call Jet a manipulator, but the reason I stay is because Jet Somers is the only real person I see around here. These fake people, these actors, they write up their scripts, and add in their actions week after week to try to make us dance.
I’m not dancing anymore.
Zane: Your games are done and you have no power over me. I shouldn’t have let it go as far as I did, and I lost that match to you at Synergy because of myself. Not because you were better than me. I am better than you in every way possible. That’s why I’m such a threat. That’s why you’re going to these lengths. And that’s why you will lose. Again. It must be so aggravating to keep getting so close to the title and never quite having enough to get there. I wouldn’t know. I did it on my first try. Sucks to be you.
Ooley: I have no idea why you’re in this match, I have no motive to assign to you other than things I hope are not true. Your history is impressive, but it’s just that-- history. I see this as a frantic dive for the fountain of youth, a useless wish for things in the past. This isn’t the past. This is 2013 and your time is done and gone. It’s my time now and I won’t let an old has-been take that from me.
And Chaos. That shoebox full of memories. Those beautiful memories. Unfortunately, you seem to remember things very differently than what I do.
My sixteenth birthday. It’s a wonderful time in any young girl’s life and that was a perfect picture. Except you forgot to add that I was nearly molested by one of Cypress’ reprobates that was always hanging around. Why do I say nearly? Because I consented. Why did I consent? Because I thought that’s how it was done. Cypress was always pushy with what he wanted and he usually got what he wanted. I had seen the women around him. They became my role models. But maybe you didn’t know about that.
My gymnastics performance that you were so impressed with? Yeah, you were impressed alright. So impressed you cheered for the wrong girl. I remember watching from the sidelines while you drunkenly went on and on about Stephanie Brown. You remember pride. I recall intense embarrassment.
My grandmother’s funeral. None of you were even sober there. I know because I remember the jeering. Do you remember me singing there at the end until my voice broke? Do you know what I remember? You and three of your buddies sitting in the back row snickering and laughing. It was my grandmother’s favorite song and I was honored to sing it one last time for her. I thought it was special and I was so emotional. Never pass up a moment for a joke, right? At the time, I didn’t know better. I just smiled through my tears. I thought that was how it was done.
Do I remember you with my family? Sure, I do. I remember how everything devolved into drunken embarrassment.
Hugs that went on too long.
I remember feeling like nothing but a waitress and property to fetch drinks for all of you guys and parade around like a piece of meat for Cypress’ more lecherous pals to tug at their beards and drool over. Yeah, any of you would have stomped another guy into the ground for so much as looking at me funny, unless it was one of your friends.
I didn’t know better. I thought that was how it was done.
I thought that was family.
That was my only concept of family. Until Jet and Travis.
There’s this parable, the Allegory of the Cave. It’s about a group of people who have been chained to the wall of a cave all their lives. All they know is a blank wall across from them and the shadows that dance across it. To them, these shadows are real and have a life apart from them.
They don’t know better.
If one of those prisoners were to be released and shown what created the shadows, he wouldn’t understand. To him, what caused the shadow wouldn’t be real. The shadow would be. Only time would show him differently.
For me, my life growing up was like that cave. My family life was the shadows on the wall. And now? I’ve escaped the cave. It took Jet and Travis a little while to show me that the shadows weren’t real, that the family I had known had been… false. I now know what real family is. Real family stands together, doing things they don’t want to to save each other. For the greater good. I know now what Jet did for me, and I can’t thank him enough for it.
PMN is my family.
And I’ll never turn my back on them.
Two days since Synergy and I’ve been right here. I can’t eat. I barely sleep, and when I do, all I see is him. I know it shouldn’t be that way. I’m the champion, the face of the company, and I can’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror. The roses keep coming, a countdown until we meet again, a reminder of everything that’s happened. Just seeing his writing on the notes makes me want to shove myself under the hottest running water I can find, just burn the flesh away until there’s nothing there for him to touch. That’s not rational. I need sleep. I need to eat. I need to train. But if it’s not him, it’s Chaos, mocking me, making his pointed little barbs about how I betrayed my family and allowed Jet and Travis to snow me. And Ooley-- I don’t even want to think about that right now, because the implications there hurt almost more than anything. Is he in the match because he actually wants the title, or is he here because neither Jet nor Travis have faith in me to retain?
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“She’s been locked up in her room since we got back from Chicago. I have no idea what she’s up to, but she hasn’t taken any food, and that has me worried.” Jet Somers leans back in his office chair, twirling a pen between his fingertips. His partner, Travis Pierce, sits across the desk from him, considering.
“Well, what do you expect? After the hell she went through physically and mentally, she expected to come home and relax. What does she see when she walks in? A rose from that bastard, Zane, and a note with a number and his name signed to it. The next day? Another one. She can’t even get away from him here.” Travis’ turns his head to the side, popping his neck in frustration.
“She won’t even talk to us, Trav. When has Edie ever stopped talking?” Jet looks around the room as if the answer will appear on the walls.
“When has she ever had a sadistic stalker on her ass? Or that white trash piece of shit Chaos running her down and calling her a whore every time she turns around? She could slap him with slander the way he runs his mouth.”
Jet nods.
“Something has to be done. At the rate she’s going, she won’t be physically able to even make it out to the ring, much less mentally prepared to do so.” The pen twirls faster and faster and Jet ponders the problem.
Travis’ mouth quirks to the side as he considers.
“We could always break down her door and drag her out. Knock some sense into her.”
Jet shakes his head.
“I’m thinking that could do more harm than good.”
Travis sighs and then perks up.
“Hey, isn’t that trainer coming soon? Ingalls?”
A sly smile creeps over Jet Somers’ face.
“Why, yes. Yes, he is.”
---------------------------------------------------
July 11, 2013
Another rose today. I’ve noticed something about them. They keep getting darker, by just a shade or two. And the number gets smaller. It’s a countdown to our day at Wrestlestock. I say “our day” like it’s something special, a beautiful day just for us. It’s not. If he doesn’t break me in half, Chaos will be waiting to finish the job, both of them with the blessings of my brother. The brother I supposedly betrayed. Why can’t anyone see that I’m the one who was betrayed? Before No Holds Barred, I was the only one to speak out against Jet. At the time, Jezebel and Cypress shrugged me off, said I was worrying needlessly. I was cautious. They mocked me. Yeah, Jet and I fought back and forth, but we grew closer as we fought and we developed a begrudging trust. Even then, Jez and Cypress were against me and they stood up for Jet. A few words later, and the script was flipped.
----------------------------------------------------
“So where’s Miss Morgan?” Jason Ingalls stands in a conference room at the PMN Headquarters in Atlanta, his luggage and equipment already brought up to a room set aside for him by one of the many assistants scurrying about the massive building.
Jet turns to close the door behind him, guaranteeing their privacy.
“She’s been indisposed.”
Jason raises an eyebrow.
“Indisposed? What does that mean exactly?”
Travis pipes up from the head of the table where he’s tossing a tennis ball in the air.
“Oh, you know, adverse… disinclined… sick, if those words were also too big for you.” Travis looks over at Jason and flashes a smile as if to say “Just kidding.”
Jason’s stare is unamused.
“I know what it means. What’s wrong with her?”
Jet and Travis share a look.
“We’re not sure. We were hoping you could shine some light on that subject for us.”
A confused look from Jason.
“How can I tell you that when I haven’t been around her since the last Synergy?”
Jet clears his throat.
“Uhh well… we haven’t been around her much either, seeing as how she’s been barricaded in her room since we returned here.”
Jason’s brows draw together.
“Has she been eating?”
Travis speaks up this time.
“Not so much, no. I hear she’s trying to watch her figure for her date with Zane, but that’s just the gossip.”
Jet shakes his head and Jason fixes him with an unamused look.
“You think that’s funny? After what Scott did to her in their last go round? Do you also laugh at Chaos’ attacks on her? Yeah, real funny, man. I doubt she laughed when you got your ass handed to you a few weeks ago. Nice looking out for her. With friends like you guys, who needs enemies?”
Jason shakes his head with disgust.
“Where’s her room?”
Jet opens the door and directs an assistant to take Mr. Ingalls directly to Eden Morgan. Jason shoots another glare their way before departing. Jet closes the door behind him, turning to see Travis’ amused grin, giving a half-smile of his own.
----------------------------------------------------
Jason stands outside Eden’s door, debating the best course of action. He was here to train her, make her stronger and tougher before her next match. She would need it. But this… he was ill-equipped to handle this. He sighs, and raises a hand to knock softly on the door. No need to alarm her.
No answer.
He knocks again, this time more firmly and he gets a response.
“Go away.”
He sets his jaw. Had he thought this would be easy? The only thing that kept him from banging on her door until it rattled was the sound of her voice. Fragile. Despondent. And completely unlike the girl who had confronted him so brazenly after practically being broken apart. What had changed? He knocks again.
“Eden, it’s Jason Ingalls. Athletic trainer. You remember our deal? Now, if you don’t open the door so we can get started on this, I won’t sign your release and you can watch from the sidelines while Chaos, Zane, and Ooley fight for your title. Is that what you want?”
He hears some movement from the other side of the door and the door opens a crack. He waits for it to open more, and when it doesn’t he pushes it open and steps inside.
The room is basically dark, the glow from a cell phone screen alerting him to Eden’s presence, curled into a ball on a couch. He starts to say something, but when she looks at him his voice freezes.
Dark shadows pool under her eyes, those eyes wide and haunted, an almost wild look to them. Her long dark hair is a mess, her skin much paler than usual, clad in what appears to be a pair of loose-fitting flannel pajama bottoms and a black tank top.
“Eden, what…”
He doesn’t get to finish as her cell phone rings and she jumps, almost dropping the phone. She starts to rock back and forth, her breathing coming in hitches. Her hands shake as she grasps at the phone, looking at the screen.
“I can’t answer it, it’s him again, I won’t do it!” She stares at the screen and suddenly, the call stops.
“Him who? Eden what the hell..”
The phone rings again and she continues to stare at the screen, no reaction this time.
“Are you going to answer that?” Jason approaches her slowly, carefully, watching her close.
Eden looks up at him, her eyes pleading, but her finger slides over the screen anyway, answering the call. A wolf howl comes through, loud and clear as she hits speakerphone, followed by the sound of a scratchy record. Jason’s eyes narrow.
“Hey there, little red riding hood,
You sure are lookin’ good,
You’re everything a Big, Bad Wolf could want…”
The song continues until Jason crosses the room and snatches the phone out of her hand, shutting it off. He looks down at it angrily, almost daring it to ring. He looks back at her as she hugs her knees to her chest.
“Zane?”
Eden just nods. He shakes his head.
“Answer me, Eden! With words!”
She swallows hard.
“Yeah. It was Zane.”
He squats in front of the couch, still holding onto the phone.
“How long has he been calling and doing this?”
She looks at him through tired, almost frantic eyes.
“Since last night. He either hangs up and calls right back or it’s that song. Over. And over. Again.”
“How did he get your number?”
She closes her eyes, a tear slipping from one. She turns her head so he can’t see that one tear. He holds back a smile. She still had some fight left. Good.
“Probably from Cypress, but there’s really a number of ways.”
Jason nods, baffled as to how a brother could do that to his sister.
“Why do you keep answering?”
Eden shakes her head.
“Because if I don’t, he’ll just keep calling. And calling. If I answer he’ll at least leave me alone for a little while.”
As if on cue, the phone rings again. Same number. Jason glares at the phone in his hand and then looks back up at Eden.
“Do you care if I smash it?”
She shakes her head and he raises his arm when a voice from the doorway stops him.
“I’ll take that. No need to destroy evidence.” Jet steps into the room, holding a hand out for the phone. He gives Eden a worried glance as he takes the phone and answers the call.
“…I’ll try to be satisfied
Just to walk close by your side
Maybe you’ll see things my way
Before we get to Grandma’s place…”
“Turn it off. Look at her face. Turn it off!” Jason yells over his shoulder at Jet who quickly shuts the call down and pockets the cell phone.
“I need to talk to Eden for a few minutes. Alone, if you don’t mind,” Jet doesn’t even look at Jason as he speak, watching Eden closely.
Jason, for his part, looks completely pissed off.
“No, I’m not going anywhere. Say what you have to say in front of me.” He leans against a wall, making it clear he’s not moving. Jet gives him a look.
“Fine. But don’t interrupt me.” His eyes seem to say more than his words, and Jason starts to feel a little uneasy as Jet moves closer to Eden, taking his place and squatting in front of her.
“Travis and I have been talking, and we don’t think you’re mentally capable of competing. I’m also heavily questioning whether this is where you need to be. This isn’t the life for you, Eden. You’re not strong enough.”
Eden looks fully at Jet for the first time, her eyes wide in surprise, tears filling them. She brushes them away quickly before they fall.
“Wh-what are you saying? You want me to leave? Quit?”
Jet shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter at all to him.
“I don’t want that, but the way things stand, it appears necessary. You’re just not cut out for this. I thought you were, but my mistake.”
Eden blinks at him in confusion.
“Don’t I get a say in this?”
Jet fixes her with a hard stare.
“I don’t know, do you? Because if you want a say in this, you need to suck it up. Quit being the victim, because that’s what you are right now. You’ve willingly made yourself Zane Scott’s victim and I thought you were stronger than that. You’ve disappointed me.”
Jet stands and looks down at Eden, who looks utterly lost. Jason stares in disbelief as Jet turns and starts to walk out, warning Jason with his eyes not to say anything.
“I can do this.” She whispers it.
“What was that?” Jet half turns in an almost bored manner.
“I can do this.” Her voice much stronger this time.
“Can you? Can you really, Edie? Because if you can, that’s great. But in order for you to do that, you have to leave your emotions and feelings at the door to this room. You can’t bring them with you, they have no place in that ring or in this business. They make you a victim, you make yourself a willing victim. There’s no strength in that. No honor, either. When you walk out this door, all that’s left is reaction and behavior. Let that be all you are. Forget the roses. Forget the phone. Forget everything. Except the win. Can you do it?” When she gives no response, he walks out of the room, Jason following close behind him, the door closing after them.
Travis waits outside the room, listening, joining with Jet and walking off down the hall when he exits.
“Hey! Wanna tell me what that was all about?!” Jason yells after him.
Jet and Travis don’t slow up or turn to him. Jet exhales slowly, rubbing his eyes. Travis claps him on the shoulder.
“You did what you had to do.”
Jet nods.
“Yeah. Now it’s up to her.”
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July 12, 2013
What Jet said makes sense. I’ve been allowing Zane to get to me. I’ve been allowing Chaos to get to me. I’ve been allowing Cypress and Jez to get to me. I’ve laid down and been their victim. No more. They can’t hurt me any more than they already have.
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She’s already in the gym. That’s what he had been told, and so now Jason Ingalls, UGWC’s Head Athletic Trainer, makes his way down the various floors to the PMN gym. His thoughts race, no idea what he’ll find when he gets there. He pauses outside the doors, marveling at how this one girl had already managed to upend his normally very boring life, before shoving them open. And staring.
There, in the center of the room, stands Eden Morgan. Gone is the girl from the night before, fragile and weak. In her place stands a strong, proud woman, eyes cold and almost inhuman when she looks at him.
“You’re late. I’ve already started.”
He nods, speechless at her pristine, icy beauty.
“Right. Well, let’s get to it, then.”
Unnoticed by either of them, a camera in the corner turns, and seems to zoom in. From his office, Jet Somers watches, his semi-smile a sad one as he notes the lack of anything in her expression. But it had worked.
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July 13, 2013
Cypress, Chaos, and Jez. They call Jet a manipulator, but the reason I stay is because Jet Somers is the only real person I see around here. These fake people, these actors, they write up their scripts, and add in their actions week after week to try to make us dance.
I’m not dancing anymore.
Zane: Your games are done and you have no power over me. I shouldn’t have let it go as far as I did, and I lost that match to you at Synergy because of myself. Not because you were better than me. I am better than you in every way possible. That’s why I’m such a threat. That’s why you’re going to these lengths. And that’s why you will lose. Again. It must be so aggravating to keep getting so close to the title and never quite having enough to get there. I wouldn’t know. I did it on my first try. Sucks to be you.
Ooley: I have no idea why you’re in this match, I have no motive to assign to you other than things I hope are not true. Your history is impressive, but it’s just that-- history. I see this as a frantic dive for the fountain of youth, a useless wish for things in the past. This isn’t the past. This is 2013 and your time is done and gone. It’s my time now and I won’t let an old has-been take that from me.
And Chaos. That shoebox full of memories. Those beautiful memories. Unfortunately, you seem to remember things very differently than what I do.
My sixteenth birthday. It’s a wonderful time in any young girl’s life and that was a perfect picture. Except you forgot to add that I was nearly molested by one of Cypress’ reprobates that was always hanging around. Why do I say nearly? Because I consented. Why did I consent? Because I thought that’s how it was done. Cypress was always pushy with what he wanted and he usually got what he wanted. I had seen the women around him. They became my role models. But maybe you didn’t know about that.
My gymnastics performance that you were so impressed with? Yeah, you were impressed alright. So impressed you cheered for the wrong girl. I remember watching from the sidelines while you drunkenly went on and on about Stephanie Brown. You remember pride. I recall intense embarrassment.
My grandmother’s funeral. None of you were even sober there. I know because I remember the jeering. Do you remember me singing there at the end until my voice broke? Do you know what I remember? You and three of your buddies sitting in the back row snickering and laughing. It was my grandmother’s favorite song and I was honored to sing it one last time for her. I thought it was special and I was so emotional. Never pass up a moment for a joke, right? At the time, I didn’t know better. I just smiled through my tears. I thought that was how it was done.
Do I remember you with my family? Sure, I do. I remember how everything devolved into drunken embarrassment.
Hugs that went on too long.
I remember feeling like nothing but a waitress and property to fetch drinks for all of you guys and parade around like a piece of meat for Cypress’ more lecherous pals to tug at their beards and drool over. Yeah, any of you would have stomped another guy into the ground for so much as looking at me funny, unless it was one of your friends.
I didn’t know better. I thought that was how it was done.
I thought that was family.
That was my only concept of family. Until Jet and Travis.
There’s this parable, the Allegory of the Cave. It’s about a group of people who have been chained to the wall of a cave all their lives. All they know is a blank wall across from them and the shadows that dance across it. To them, these shadows are real and have a life apart from them.
They don’t know better.
If one of those prisoners were to be released and shown what created the shadows, he wouldn’t understand. To him, what caused the shadow wouldn’t be real. The shadow would be. Only time would show him differently.
For me, my life growing up was like that cave. My family life was the shadows on the wall. And now? I’ve escaped the cave. It took Jet and Travis a little while to show me that the shadows weren’t real, that the family I had known had been… false. I now know what real family is. Real family stands together, doing things they don’t want to to save each other. For the greater good. I know now what Jet did for me, and I can’t thank him enough for it.
PMN is my family.
And I’ll never turn my back on them.