Post by Rogan MacLean on Nov 5, 2022 20:46:32 GMT -5
Lucy had never been so nervous in all her life.
She’d also never been more terrified. In a nondescript hotel room, she sat hunched over the table that was far too big for the tiny room it occupied. In her hand, a pen and in front of her a stack of stationary. Beside her, on the floor lay a graveyard of discarded and crumpled up pieces of said stationary, a physical representation of exactly how she felt on the inside.
Her little ‘talk’ with The Dark Lady nearly a week before had brought Lucy back from the land of the pitiful and dumped her right back into reality. A reality where she wasn’t with Rogan MacLean, and a world where she wasn’t sure any effort on her part at this point would turn that circumstance around. He was upset, and rightfully so.
Lucy had fucked up.
She knew it. Rogan knew it, and if the world knew of their problems… They’d sure as hell know it too.
There was no doubt that Lucy had embarrassed herself, week after week by allowing herself to fall into the same pit of despair that she’d fallen into so many times before. Only, this time she had Rogan to help her pick up the pieces - and she didn’t let him. Instead she pulled him right down into that hellhole with her.
And now, he was gone and she was here alone.
It ate her up inside, but instead of wallowing in it - After she came out of her match with Travis Pierce successfully retaining the Conquest title for another week - she set out to try and make things right with Rogan. Only, she wasn’t entirely sure how to do that.
She knew Rogan. At least she thought she knew him.
Whatever she did.. It had to be from the heart.
It took days to find what she needed. She’d almost lost hope a few times, but it didn’t matter because she’d found it. She found it, and in finding it… she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
“Son of a bitch!”
Her outburst comes suddenly as she crumples up another sheet of paper and discards it on the ground, shaking her head in disgust. She’d found the biggest part of her plan… so why couldn’t she write a simple fucking note? It didn’t have to be spectacular. It didn’t have to be anything more than an invitation for Rogan to meet her so that they could talk.
But that’s what’s tripping her up. It’s Rogan. It’s the man she loves. She’s already made an unholy mess of everything, and she desperately wanted this to go off without a hitch. She needed to see him… no, she needed him to want to see her.
The thought of him receiving this, reading it and tossing it away like she’d done with every failed draft she’d written over the last few hours - it sent a nasty feeling all the way down to her toes. It made her sick to think that there’s every chance that Rogan wouldn’t want to see her, wouldn’t want to hear what she had to say.
She stared down at the next sheet of stationary, ready for her to put her pen to it and hopefully write exactly what she’s been trying to write for what feels like all day. After a few moments, she let the pen drop unceremoniously onto the table and she got up and moved towards the window, pulling the curtain back and looking out at the parking lot where not a lot was going on, admittedly.
Her eyes, however, settled on one particular vehicle that was parked in front of the door to her room… A Buick, and its driver… None other than Jack Levy himself. She stared at them for what felt like hours - and she smiled. Lucy had somehow found Jack and that Buick… And it was the key to everything she was trying to do.
If she found them… She could do this too, right?
Afterall, it was Rogan. She’d do anything for The Dark Man. While it’s true that she lost her way there for a while, she knew deep down that her path was meant to be shared with him. Lucy knew that there was nothing more important than him, for he too was her Dark Tower. He was the very thing she’d always been looking for, yet could never find.
With new life breathed into her resolve, she spurned the negative thoughts and she brought herself back to the table, picked up the pen and began scribbling on the stationary.
A few minutes later, Lucy emerged from her hotel room and made her way around that notorious Buick until she was standing beside the driver's side window. Jack sat there stoically, staring straight ahead, that was until Lucy leaned down, staring at him through the open window. It was then, and only then that he turned his head and glanced down at the envelope in her hand, and then up into her eyes.
“This must find The Dark Man, wherever he is.”
Jack simply nodded his head as he reached up slowly and pulled the envelope from her grip.
“And please… If he’ll accompany you…”
“No harm will befall the Dark Man.”
Jack replied softly, turning his gaze back towards the windshield. Lucy stood, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know where I’ll be.”
Was the final thing Lucy said as Jack put the Buick in gear and backed out of the parking spot. Mere seconds later, she watched them as they drove down the road. Lucy averted her gaze for a split second, and when her eyes flickered back up - The Buick was gone, and a soft breeze picked up in its wake, sending a chill up the Dark Lady’s spine.
“There’s no fate but what we make… And now, we wait.”
She said to herself as she turned back towards the hotel, and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the window to her room - She swore she saw The Dark Lady staring back at her - And she grinned.
I can’t keep chasing you, Lucy…
The words echoed in my head. My own words. Haunting me.
I can’t keep chasing you, Lucy. I can’t venture through the waystations…
The waystations I had become so familiar with. They were the doorways I often had to find to get from here to there, and from there to here, in my days of travels. Now they were the doorways I had to find to connect to a haunted and tortured soul.
...and the wastelands…
The wastelands were what I crossed in those other worlds that I traveled. Even the eleven years I spent on the other side of The Door, that version of UGWC was the wastelands to me. It was an alternate reality that ultimately meant nothing to me, despite how much it meant to those who lived in it. Those alternate, yet very real versions of Donovan, and Jet, and Konrad, and Lucy, and Gabriel, and JC, and all the others I ran across. Now? The wastelands were me. This? Contemplation and self-reflection? It’s the wastelands.
I can’t stay aboard this monorail anymore…
The monorail is the tortured soul. Beautifully constructed on the outside, and even on the inside. But even when you climb aboard, you can tell that something is off… Just like my ancestor braved a monorail haunted by an insane spirit that called himself Blaine, I was supposed to stand and fight this ghost. This… insanity inside Lucy. But I ran out of riddles. And I let her self-destruct. MacLean is a pain. And that is the truth.
I can’t fight the wolves of the Calla…
Why keep running from who I really am? I’ve spent my entire existence running from who I am, from what I am. And the truth is… I am the descendant of Roland Deschain. The last gunslinger. And yet, I call myself the Dark Man. Somewhere in that strange family tree, Randall Flagg stepped in. Not as Randall Flagg, of course. But the devil lives everywhere, doesn’t he? Even in places he doesn’t belong. What does that have to do with this, though? Well, nothing I suppose. Other than coming clean with who I really am. I could say that I’ve forgotten the face of my father. But, the truth is, I forgot what that looked like a long time ago.
...or hold off the breakers. I can’t do it anymore. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves.
The breakers, in the legend, were the ones who tried to break the beams that led to the tower. The beams held that reality together. The breakers tried to destroy that. The beams I speak of are what hold me and Lucy together. The breakers? They’re those who try to rip us apart. It seems they’re succeeding, doesn’t it? At this point in my story, I’m very scared. I’m very alone. And I’m very much a broken gunslinger, with no dark tower in sight.
Long days and pleasant nights, Lucy…
Gulf Shores, Alabama
Dusk
Rogan leaned against the pier. There were clusters of fishermen on either side of it, and he had probably seen at least half a dozen sharks in the water. Not big sharks, but sharks nonetheless. He had spent the entire day here. It was within walking distance of the condo he rented for the week, which towered in the skyline against the setting sun in the distance.
He didn’t know where else to go. To Rogan MacLean, Gulf Shores was as much his home as anywhere else. He had fallen in love with it down here. And coming back was a refreshing change in an otherwise chaotic world that was crumbling around him.
Reflecting on everything wasn’t doing him any good, though. The orange ball in the sky was descending rapidly down here. He forgot how quickly it all happened–both, the sunset, and the fall of his relationship with Lucy.
Sid Griffith often told Rogan that God had a fucked up sense of humor. Similarly, so did the UGWC creative directors. In this case, just as their relationship ended, Lucy and Rogan were reunited as cooperative partners in a championship match against Holden and Phrixus.
“No,” he had said on the phone to Jet earlier that day. “Now’s the worst time for this.”
“Rogan, it’s already been advertised. It’s already been booked. We can’t just sell tickets advertising Numinous Fate and then you guys not show up. We’d be ripping off our fans.”
He closed his eyes in frustration.
“Sure you can. Listen, I highly doubt it would be a major hit to the UGWC fans to miss out on Numinous Fate. Especially Rogan MacLean. Just replace us with the Dark Destroyer and… what’s the other guy’s name?”
“...Captain 80’s. And are you listening to yourself right now? You and Lucy are two of our top talents. You’ve both been in the World Championship picture recently. We can’t replace Numinous Fate with two goofballs. Are you serious?”
He paused and Rogan knew what was coming next.
“I don’t want to pry…”
Rogan smiled bitterly as he stared out his balcony window at the beach below.
“...but are you and Lucy okay?”
There it was, the million dollar question. Rogan predictably dodged it.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do, Jet?”
Another long pause. Jet sighed on the other end.
“Listen… I was never a fan of the Engine of Chaos. Not many of us in the back were, as you can imagine. But, this, just like the singles match between you and Holden on Synergy this week, is a big nostalgia piece for what is one of the biggest pay-per-views of the year! I’m begging you, please… whatever you and Lucy need to do, make it happen.”
Jet paused, hesitating to continue.
“...but if you can’t, then you can’t. Can you just let me know soon? I’ll have to scramble to find someone to take your place… I want you to think about something, though, okay?”
“Go on,” Rogan said quietly, watching the waves crash to shore outside.
“You and I didn’t even like each other, and we made it work.”
“That’s not fair, Jet. You gave up on me so that you could take the World Championship off me almost as soon as I won it! You were a shark that smelled blood!”
“You can view it how you wish, Rogan. I will say, though, I was a shark who smelled blood. And the same is the case here. I smell blood in the form of ratings. You and Lucy against Holden and Deimos. Some of the best cooperative competitors in the history of the company. You can’t argue it. Despite what you think, you’re a big part of us. If you weren’t, we would have never gotten on speaking terms.”
“You’ll say anything, won’t you?”
Rogan was smiling, in spite of the question. Jet could feel it, too.
“See? Look how well you know me, brother. When can I expect a final decision from you?”
Rogan took a moment to reflect on his brief partnership with Jet Somers, and couldn’t help but wonder what could have been.
“Rett!”
Rogan whirled around quickly to the sound of the robotic voice but there wasn’t anything in the room. He smiled and shook his head.
“Now,” he said. “I’ll figure it out, keep us booked.”
“Wonderful!” Jet exclaimed on the other end.
“You’re still a prick, though.”
“And you’re a bitter asshole.”
“...as long as we understand each other.”
“See you Monday, Rogan.”
“Yup.”
He hung up the phone and gazed out the window.
“Am I going to keep chasing you, Dark Lady?”
He could see her eyes. Her seductive smile. Everywhere he looked, he could see those eyes burning holes in his sanity.
Rogan left the pier and walked along the beach towards his condo. The beach wasn’t as busy this time of year, but he still saw a few families taking pictures and enjoying the cool breeze by the pier. He stopped at his condo and looked up at it for a long time, before deciding to walk past it, and towards a pink building in the distance: The Pink Pony Pub.
He walked up the beach to the pub, smiling and nodding politely to passers by. He glanced to the left and back up the pub, but froze. Slowly, he turned his head back to the parking lot shared by the Pink Pony Pub and another popular spot down here called The Hangout. Idling quietly was a shiny black Buick Rogue, an 8 cylinder that doesn’t exist… in this world. The driver’s side window rolled down, tinted as black as the devil’s soul, and on the other side was Jack Levy, staring behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses at Rogan.
He turned, and walked towards the Buick slowly. He leaned in and was admittedly disappointed when he didn’t see Lucy inside.
“She sent you, didn’t she?”
Jack nodded without a word. A seagull hovered over Rogan and squawked in approval. He nodded and stepped to the passenger side of the Buick. Getting in, he glanced over at Jack.
“The lady in black fled across the desert…”
Jack smiled behind his sunglasses, and nodded once more.
“...and the gunslinger followed.”
He put the Buick into gear.
Sonoran Desert
The Buick rolled slowly to a stop. The Dark Man stepped out. Somewhere, deep in the desert, a wolf howled. For a long time, the Dark Man stood next to the vehicle. Inside, the chauffeur sat in silence.
Then, the sound of worn boot heels could be heard clicking against the pavement of the loneliest road in America. He looked over his shoulder. In the distance, the Dark Lady approached. As she neared, he turned to face her. The wind whistling was the only sound for a long time.
“Lucy,” Rogan whispered, and the two embraced. After a few moments, Lucy pulled away.
“Come, let’s hold palaver, Dark Man.”
She took him by the hand and led him further into the desert, to a campfire that was burning bright in the night.
“Here we are.”
The campfire crackled. The Dark Man peered from behind a hood. Next to him, the Dark Lady peered from behind hers.
“It’s been a long time coming.”
The Dark Man nodded in agreement.
“And I can’t help but feel that this match may be a little personal, at least on Holden’s part. Judging by what you’ve had to say to me after such long silence, I’d say you’re just a little bitter, Mr. Orson. Because, why? Because I’ve stayed in contact with Gabriel after all of this time? Because you haven’t heard from me? Last I checked, communication is a two way street. And guess who I haven’t heard from over the last several years? I haven’t heard from you, not a single scoff, or sigh. Not a word. And now that you’re back, you expect a warm welcome from me? Well, I thought we were on different terms than what we are. While I’m disappointed, I’m not entirely heartbroken by it.”
He smirked behind the hood.
“You see, I showed you respect last week, and that was my mistake. You weren’t here for my respect. You’re here to avenge some sort of fantasized injustice that doesn’t exist. I’ll entertain it, if you’d like. I’ll even oblige. If you want this to become personal, then make it so. It’s been a while since I’ve been involved in a blood feud, but if that’s what the heart wants… well who am I to decline it? You know what I really think, Holden? I think you’re as timid now as you’ve always been. Longing to belong, desperate to be relevant and respected. But all you’ve accomplished at this point is getting my attention. You may consider that to be a win on your end, and you can tally it up as one, if you’d like. But from this point on, my attitude towards you will be different. Starting on Monday, when we take those Cooperative Championships off you and your unlikely partner.”
The Dark Lady stole a glance at her partner.
“For someone who’s accomplished more than many thought he could since returning here to the UGWC… You are awfully ungrateful, Holden. Let’s go back a few months, and remember that you were thrust into the main event of Run of the Mill, into a match for the World Championship. You found yourself surrounded by people of a different caliber, people who had earned their place in the spotlight, whether it be directly or indirectly. But you.. You were given an opportunity to do what you’d never done and you failed. But that’s neither here nor there. It’s simply the principle of the thing. You look at all of us, and you honestly believe that you deserve our respect, or our care when you’ve done nothing to earn it. And here you are, finally a champion on the back of another. How ironic. How very ironic it is to be standing across from someone as selfish and egotistical as you claim the Dark Man to be.”
She grinned, a hateful grin beneath that hood.
“If your problem lies with him, then it lies with me… as well.”
For a moment, all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames, and the wind whistling past. The Dark Man leaned forward.
“So what is it about Holden Orson that Fear finds worthy of his partnership? I’ve got no personal issue with you, Deimos, not yet. As far as Monday goes, it will just be business. So what is it, then? Is it that you find Holden easy to take advantage of? Are you bored and looking for something different to do? …or is this just a case of nostalgia? Two relics that represent UGWC’s past. A lot can be said about me, and maybe even Lucy, but as far as we’re concerned, we’re UGWC’s present. We’ve only just begun to tap into our potential, and now that we’ve unlocked it? Well, fate is in our hands, wouldn’t you say? Again, I’ve nothing but respect for a man of your caliber, Deimos. But who you choose to… associate with… is questionable.”
The Dark Lady leaned forward as well, placing a hand on the arm of her Dark Man.
“Phrixus is undoubtedly worthy of respect, but, I find his actions questionable. Not only his choice in partners.. But what he chooses to do with his time. For a man who has prophesied time after time that Tempest would be the undoing of the Coalition if he were to attain the World Championship, his effort in correcting that injustice himself has been noticeably absent. Instead he finds himself jumping from partner to partner, trying to attain something that has nothing to do with the thing that he’s been focusing on for so long. It’s like a riddle with no solution. It’s confusing and to be honest, it’s disappointing.”
She shrugged.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe that Fear himself is afraid that he couldn’t possibly do what needs to be done, therefore he settles for throwaway partner after throwaway partner in an effort to appear busy whilst those of us more qualified handle the difficulties that he hasn’t hesitated to expound to us week after week. So what comes of you.. And your partner this week? Where is your focus?”
The Dark Man grinned.
“Why, I think you’re right! Phrixus Deimos fears the Spider King. Why else would he back from a mission that he’s set out to accomplish for so long?”
He paused, then spat on the ground.
“Coward! Come Monday, there will be no fate but what we make, when we relieve you of your duties as Cooperative Champions. Holden, perhaps you’ll have the presence of mind to tuck your tail between your legs and burrow into that little hole of yours before it’s too late. And Fear… we’ll be doing you a favor, taking away this distraction so you can refocus on what you’re truly meant to do here… dethroning the Tempest, and banishing the Astro Creeps once and for all… if you can.”
“It’s a shame that we have to be the ones to remind you both of where you belong, but we’re all too happy to take back what we’ve been longing to get back for oh so long now… And send you both back onto the paths that you are truly meant to be on. For some of us, fate is a friend.. And for others, she’s a vengeful, spiteful creature. But she’s always what we’ve created her to be.”
“Unfortunately, as you’ll soon find out, fate is just as ugly as jealousy… which is what seems to consume you both. If you really think about it.”
The Dark Man pulled his hood back and winked as they both stood.
“See you Monday. And Holden? Stick around a while, yeah? I’ll show you the best rivalry you’ve ever had.”
The two grin and walk across the desert… and the Buick followed.
She’d also never been more terrified. In a nondescript hotel room, she sat hunched over the table that was far too big for the tiny room it occupied. In her hand, a pen and in front of her a stack of stationary. Beside her, on the floor lay a graveyard of discarded and crumpled up pieces of said stationary, a physical representation of exactly how she felt on the inside.
Her little ‘talk’ with The Dark Lady nearly a week before had brought Lucy back from the land of the pitiful and dumped her right back into reality. A reality where she wasn’t with Rogan MacLean, and a world where she wasn’t sure any effort on her part at this point would turn that circumstance around. He was upset, and rightfully so.
Lucy had fucked up.
She knew it. Rogan knew it, and if the world knew of their problems… They’d sure as hell know it too.
There was no doubt that Lucy had embarrassed herself, week after week by allowing herself to fall into the same pit of despair that she’d fallen into so many times before. Only, this time she had Rogan to help her pick up the pieces - and she didn’t let him. Instead she pulled him right down into that hellhole with her.
And now, he was gone and she was here alone.
It ate her up inside, but instead of wallowing in it - After she came out of her match with Travis Pierce successfully retaining the Conquest title for another week - she set out to try and make things right with Rogan. Only, she wasn’t entirely sure how to do that.
She knew Rogan. At least she thought she knew him.
Whatever she did.. It had to be from the heart.
It took days to find what she needed. She’d almost lost hope a few times, but it didn’t matter because she’d found it. She found it, and in finding it… she knew exactly what she wanted to do.
“Son of a bitch!”
Her outburst comes suddenly as she crumples up another sheet of paper and discards it on the ground, shaking her head in disgust. She’d found the biggest part of her plan… so why couldn’t she write a simple fucking note? It didn’t have to be spectacular. It didn’t have to be anything more than an invitation for Rogan to meet her so that they could talk.
But that’s what’s tripping her up. It’s Rogan. It’s the man she loves. She’s already made an unholy mess of everything, and she desperately wanted this to go off without a hitch. She needed to see him… no, she needed him to want to see her.
The thought of him receiving this, reading it and tossing it away like she’d done with every failed draft she’d written over the last few hours - it sent a nasty feeling all the way down to her toes. It made her sick to think that there’s every chance that Rogan wouldn’t want to see her, wouldn’t want to hear what she had to say.
She stared down at the next sheet of stationary, ready for her to put her pen to it and hopefully write exactly what she’s been trying to write for what feels like all day. After a few moments, she let the pen drop unceremoniously onto the table and she got up and moved towards the window, pulling the curtain back and looking out at the parking lot where not a lot was going on, admittedly.
Her eyes, however, settled on one particular vehicle that was parked in front of the door to her room… A Buick, and its driver… None other than Jack Levy himself. She stared at them for what felt like hours - and she smiled. Lucy had somehow found Jack and that Buick… And it was the key to everything she was trying to do.
If she found them… She could do this too, right?
Afterall, it was Rogan. She’d do anything for The Dark Man. While it’s true that she lost her way there for a while, she knew deep down that her path was meant to be shared with him. Lucy knew that there was nothing more important than him, for he too was her Dark Tower. He was the very thing she’d always been looking for, yet could never find.
With new life breathed into her resolve, she spurned the negative thoughts and she brought herself back to the table, picked up the pen and began scribbling on the stationary.
A few minutes later, Lucy emerged from her hotel room and made her way around that notorious Buick until she was standing beside the driver's side window. Jack sat there stoically, staring straight ahead, that was until Lucy leaned down, staring at him through the open window. It was then, and only then that he turned his head and glanced down at the envelope in her hand, and then up into her eyes.
“This must find The Dark Man, wherever he is.”
Jack simply nodded his head as he reached up slowly and pulled the envelope from her grip.
“And please… If he’ll accompany you…”
“No harm will befall the Dark Man.”
Jack replied softly, turning his gaze back towards the windshield. Lucy stood, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You know where I’ll be.”
Was the final thing Lucy said as Jack put the Buick in gear and backed out of the parking spot. Mere seconds later, she watched them as they drove down the road. Lucy averted her gaze for a split second, and when her eyes flickered back up - The Buick was gone, and a soft breeze picked up in its wake, sending a chill up the Dark Lady’s spine.
“There’s no fate but what we make… And now, we wait.”
She said to herself as she turned back towards the hotel, and when she caught a glimpse of herself in the window to her room - She swore she saw The Dark Lady staring back at her - And she grinned.
I can’t keep chasing you, Lucy…
The words echoed in my head. My own words. Haunting me.
I can’t keep chasing you, Lucy. I can’t venture through the waystations…
Bury all your secrets in my skin
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins
The waystations I had become so familiar with. They were the doorways I often had to find to get from here to there, and from there to here, in my days of travels. Now they were the doorways I had to find to connect to a haunted and tortured soul.
...and the wastelands…
The air around me still feels like a cage
And love is just a camouflage, for what resembles rage, again
The wastelands were what I crossed in those other worlds that I traveled. Even the eleven years I spent on the other side of The Door, that version of UGWC was the wastelands to me. It was an alternate reality that ultimately meant nothing to me, despite how much it meant to those who lived in it. Those alternate, yet very real versions of Donovan, and Jet, and Konrad, and Lucy, and Gabriel, and JC, and all the others I ran across. Now? The wastelands were me. This? Contemplation and self-reflection? It’s the wastelands.
I can’t stay aboard this monorail anymore…
So if you love me, let me go
And run away before I know
The monorail is the tortured soul. Beautifully constructed on the outside, and even on the inside. But even when you climb aboard, you can tell that something is off… Just like my ancestor braved a monorail haunted by an insane spirit that called himself Blaine, I was supposed to stand and fight this ghost. This… insanity inside Lucy. But I ran out of riddles. And I let her self-destruct. MacLean is a pain. And that is the truth.
I can’t fight the wolves of the Calla…
My heart is just too dark to care
I can’t destroy what isn’t there
Why keep running from who I really am? I’ve spent my entire existence running from who I am, from what I am. And the truth is… I am the descendant of Roland Deschain. The last gunslinger. And yet, I call myself the Dark Man. Somewhere in that strange family tree, Randall Flagg stepped in. Not as Randall Flagg, of course. But the devil lives everywhere, doesn’t he? Even in places he doesn’t belong. What does that have to do with this, though? Well, nothing I suppose. Other than coming clean with who I really am. I could say that I’ve forgotten the face of my father. But, the truth is, I forgot what that looked like a long time ago.
...or hold off the breakers. I can’t do it anymore. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves.
Deliver me into my fate
If I’m alone I cannot hate
I don’t deserve to have you
My smile was taken long ago
If I can change, I hope I never know
The breakers, in the legend, were the ones who tried to break the beams that led to the tower. The beams held that reality together. The breakers tried to destroy that. The beams I speak of are what hold me and Lucy together. The breakers? They’re those who try to rip us apart. It seems they’re succeeding, doesn’t it? At this point in my story, I’m very scared. I’m very alone. And I’m very much a broken gunslinger, with no dark tower in sight.
Long days and pleasant nights, Lucy…
Gulf Shores, Alabama
Dusk
I still press your letters to my lips
And cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss
I couldn’t face a life without your lights
But all of that was ripped apart when you refused to fight
Rogan leaned against the pier. There were clusters of fishermen on either side of it, and he had probably seen at least half a dozen sharks in the water. Not big sharks, but sharks nonetheless. He had spent the entire day here. It was within walking distance of the condo he rented for the week, which towered in the skyline against the setting sun in the distance.
He didn’t know where else to go. To Rogan MacLean, Gulf Shores was as much his home as anywhere else. He had fallen in love with it down here. And coming back was a refreshing change in an otherwise chaotic world that was crumbling around him.
So save your breath I will not hear
I think I’ve made it very clear
You couldn’t hate enough to love
Is that supposed to be enough?
Reflecting on everything wasn’t doing him any good, though. The orange ball in the sky was descending rapidly down here. He forgot how quickly it all happened–both, the sunset, and the fall of his relationship with Lucy.
Sid Griffith often told Rogan that God had a fucked up sense of humor. Similarly, so did the UGWC creative directors. In this case, just as their relationship ended, Lucy and Rogan were reunited as cooperative partners in a championship match against Holden and Phrixus.
I only wish you weren’t my friend
Then I could hurt you in the end
I never claimed to be a saint
My own was banished long ago
It took the death of hope to let you go
“No,” he had said on the phone to Jet earlier that day. “Now’s the worst time for this.”
“Rogan, it’s already been advertised. It’s already been booked. We can’t just sell tickets advertising Numinous Fate and then you guys not show up. We’d be ripping off our fans.”
He closed his eyes in frustration.
“Sure you can. Listen, I highly doubt it would be a major hit to the UGWC fans to miss out on Numinous Fate. Especially Rogan MacLean. Just replace us with the Dark Destroyer and… what’s the other guy’s name?”
“...Captain 80’s. And are you listening to yourself right now? You and Lucy are two of our top talents. You’ve both been in the World Championship picture recently. We can’t replace Numinous Fate with two goofballs. Are you serious?”
He paused and Rogan knew what was coming next.
“I don’t want to pry…”
Rogan smiled bitterly as he stared out his balcony window at the beach below.
“...but are you and Lucy okay?”
There it was, the million dollar question. Rogan predictably dodged it.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do, Jet?”
Another long pause. Jet sighed on the other end.
“Listen… I was never a fan of the Engine of Chaos. Not many of us in the back were, as you can imagine. But, this, just like the singles match between you and Holden on Synergy this week, is a big nostalgia piece for what is one of the biggest pay-per-views of the year! I’m begging you, please… whatever you and Lucy need to do, make it happen.”
Jet paused, hesitating to continue.
“...but if you can’t, then you can’t. Can you just let me know soon? I’ll have to scramble to find someone to take your place… I want you to think about something, though, okay?”
“Go on,” Rogan said quietly, watching the waves crash to shore outside.
“You and I didn’t even like each other, and we made it work.”
“That’s not fair, Jet. You gave up on me so that you could take the World Championship off me almost as soon as I won it! You were a shark that smelled blood!”
“You can view it how you wish, Rogan. I will say, though, I was a shark who smelled blood. And the same is the case here. I smell blood in the form of ratings. You and Lucy against Holden and Deimos. Some of the best cooperative competitors in the history of the company. You can’t argue it. Despite what you think, you’re a big part of us. If you weren’t, we would have never gotten on speaking terms.”
“You’ll say anything, won’t you?”
Rogan was smiling, in spite of the question. Jet could feel it, too.
“See? Look how well you know me, brother. When can I expect a final decision from you?”
Rogan took a moment to reflect on his brief partnership with Jet Somers, and couldn’t help but wonder what could have been.
“Rett!”
Rogan whirled around quickly to the sound of the robotic voice but there wasn’t anything in the room. He smiled and shook his head.
“Now,” he said. “I’ll figure it out, keep us booked.”
“Wonderful!” Jet exclaimed on the other end.
“You’re still a prick, though.”
“And you’re a bitter asshole.”
“...as long as we understand each other.”
“See you Monday, Rogan.”
“Yup.”
He hung up the phone and gazed out the window.
“Am I going to keep chasing you, Dark Lady?”
He could see her eyes. Her seductive smile. Everywhere he looked, he could see those eyes burning holes in his sanity.
So break yourself against my stones
And spit your pity in my soul
You never needed any help
You sold me out to save yourself
Rogan left the pier and walked along the beach towards his condo. The beach wasn’t as busy this time of year, but he still saw a few families taking pictures and enjoying the cool breeze by the pier. He stopped at his condo and looked up at it for a long time, before deciding to walk past it, and towards a pink building in the distance: The Pink Pony Pub.
And I won’t listen to your shame
You ran away, you’re all the same
Angels lie to keep control
If you still care don’t ever let me know!
He walked up the beach to the pub, smiling and nodding politely to passers by. He glanced to the left and back up the pub, but froze. Slowly, he turned his head back to the parking lot shared by the Pink Pony Pub and another popular spot down here called The Hangout. Idling quietly was a shiny black Buick Rogue, an 8 cylinder that doesn’t exist… in this world. The driver’s side window rolled down, tinted as black as the devil’s soul, and on the other side was Jack Levy, staring behind a pair of mirrored sunglasses at Rogan.
He turned, and walked towards the Buick slowly. He leaned in and was admittedly disappointed when he didn’t see Lucy inside.
“She sent you, didn’t she?”
Jack nodded without a word. A seagull hovered over Rogan and squawked in approval. He nodded and stepped to the passenger side of the Buick. Getting in, he glanced over at Jack.
“The lady in black fled across the desert…”
Jack smiled behind his sunglasses, and nodded once more.
“...and the gunslinger followed.”
He put the Buick into gear.
Sonoran Desert
The Buick rolled slowly to a stop. The Dark Man stepped out. Somewhere, deep in the desert, a wolf howled. For a long time, the Dark Man stood next to the vehicle. Inside, the chauffeur sat in silence.
Then, the sound of worn boot heels could be heard clicking against the pavement of the loneliest road in America. He looked over his shoulder. In the distance, the Dark Lady approached. As she neared, he turned to face her. The wind whistling was the only sound for a long time.
“Lucy,” Rogan whispered, and the two embraced. After a few moments, Lucy pulled away.
“Come, let’s hold palaver, Dark Man.”
She took him by the hand and led him further into the desert, to a campfire that was burning bright in the night.
“Here we are.”
The campfire crackled. The Dark Man peered from behind a hood. Next to him, the Dark Lady peered from behind hers.
“It’s been a long time coming.”
The Dark Man nodded in agreement.
“And I can’t help but feel that this match may be a little personal, at least on Holden’s part. Judging by what you’ve had to say to me after such long silence, I’d say you’re just a little bitter, Mr. Orson. Because, why? Because I’ve stayed in contact with Gabriel after all of this time? Because you haven’t heard from me? Last I checked, communication is a two way street. And guess who I haven’t heard from over the last several years? I haven’t heard from you, not a single scoff, or sigh. Not a word. And now that you’re back, you expect a warm welcome from me? Well, I thought we were on different terms than what we are. While I’m disappointed, I’m not entirely heartbroken by it.”
He smirked behind the hood.
“You see, I showed you respect last week, and that was my mistake. You weren’t here for my respect. You’re here to avenge some sort of fantasized injustice that doesn’t exist. I’ll entertain it, if you’d like. I’ll even oblige. If you want this to become personal, then make it so. It’s been a while since I’ve been involved in a blood feud, but if that’s what the heart wants… well who am I to decline it? You know what I really think, Holden? I think you’re as timid now as you’ve always been. Longing to belong, desperate to be relevant and respected. But all you’ve accomplished at this point is getting my attention. You may consider that to be a win on your end, and you can tally it up as one, if you’d like. But from this point on, my attitude towards you will be different. Starting on Monday, when we take those Cooperative Championships off you and your unlikely partner.”
The Dark Lady stole a glance at her partner.
“For someone who’s accomplished more than many thought he could since returning here to the UGWC… You are awfully ungrateful, Holden. Let’s go back a few months, and remember that you were thrust into the main event of Run of the Mill, into a match for the World Championship. You found yourself surrounded by people of a different caliber, people who had earned their place in the spotlight, whether it be directly or indirectly. But you.. You were given an opportunity to do what you’d never done and you failed. But that’s neither here nor there. It’s simply the principle of the thing. You look at all of us, and you honestly believe that you deserve our respect, or our care when you’ve done nothing to earn it. And here you are, finally a champion on the back of another. How ironic. How very ironic it is to be standing across from someone as selfish and egotistical as you claim the Dark Man to be.”
She grinned, a hateful grin beneath that hood.
“If your problem lies with him, then it lies with me… as well.”
For a moment, all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames, and the wind whistling past. The Dark Man leaned forward.
“So what is it about Holden Orson that Fear finds worthy of his partnership? I’ve got no personal issue with you, Deimos, not yet. As far as Monday goes, it will just be business. So what is it, then? Is it that you find Holden easy to take advantage of? Are you bored and looking for something different to do? …or is this just a case of nostalgia? Two relics that represent UGWC’s past. A lot can be said about me, and maybe even Lucy, but as far as we’re concerned, we’re UGWC’s present. We’ve only just begun to tap into our potential, and now that we’ve unlocked it? Well, fate is in our hands, wouldn’t you say? Again, I’ve nothing but respect for a man of your caliber, Deimos. But who you choose to… associate with… is questionable.”
The Dark Lady leaned forward as well, placing a hand on the arm of her Dark Man.
“Phrixus is undoubtedly worthy of respect, but, I find his actions questionable. Not only his choice in partners.. But what he chooses to do with his time. For a man who has prophesied time after time that Tempest would be the undoing of the Coalition if he were to attain the World Championship, his effort in correcting that injustice himself has been noticeably absent. Instead he finds himself jumping from partner to partner, trying to attain something that has nothing to do with the thing that he’s been focusing on for so long. It’s like a riddle with no solution. It’s confusing and to be honest, it’s disappointing.”
She shrugged.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe that Fear himself is afraid that he couldn’t possibly do what needs to be done, therefore he settles for throwaway partner after throwaway partner in an effort to appear busy whilst those of us more qualified handle the difficulties that he hasn’t hesitated to expound to us week after week. So what comes of you.. And your partner this week? Where is your focus?”
The Dark Man grinned.
“Why, I think you’re right! Phrixus Deimos fears the Spider King. Why else would he back from a mission that he’s set out to accomplish for so long?”
He paused, then spat on the ground.
“Coward! Come Monday, there will be no fate but what we make, when we relieve you of your duties as Cooperative Champions. Holden, perhaps you’ll have the presence of mind to tuck your tail between your legs and burrow into that little hole of yours before it’s too late. And Fear… we’ll be doing you a favor, taking away this distraction so you can refocus on what you’re truly meant to do here… dethroning the Tempest, and banishing the Astro Creeps once and for all… if you can.”
“It’s a shame that we have to be the ones to remind you both of where you belong, but we’re all too happy to take back what we’ve been longing to get back for oh so long now… And send you both back onto the paths that you are truly meant to be on. For some of us, fate is a friend.. And for others, she’s a vengeful, spiteful creature. But she’s always what we’ve created her to be.”
“Unfortunately, as you’ll soon find out, fate is just as ugly as jealousy… which is what seems to consume you both. If you really think about it.”
The Dark Man pulled his hood back and winked as they both stood.
“See you Monday. And Holden? Stick around a while, yeah? I’ll show you the best rivalry you’ve ever had.”
The two grin and walk across the desert… and the Buick followed.
