Post by Declan Prescott on Jun 29, 2010 19:30:40 GMT -5
Cara Costello sat nervously at her temporary desk inside GIW HQ. Her fingers were nervously tapping against the wooden frame, while her right leg shook beyond her control. She soon clenched her fists and bit harshly down on her bottom lip.
"You can do this," she thought to herself.
Suddenly and without warning, the ceiling shuddered and a barrage of dust fell from the crevices and covered every inch of her body.
"Fuck..."
She took hold of a broom leaning against the wall behind her and climbed onto her chair, before beginning to violently slam the handle into the ceiling.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU, DJ?!" she bellowed towards the heavens. "ABOUT USING THE ROOM ABOVE ME DURING BUSINESS HOURS?!?!"
There was no response, except for the ceiling continuing to creak and rock. More dust sprayed onto Cara and she could feel it filling her ears, nose and mouth. After a few moments, hideous wailing began emanating from the room above.
"YOU STUPID FUCKING MAN SLUTS!" she roared at the roof. "I'M NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH THIS BULLSHIT FOREVER YOU HEAR M -"
She instantly stopped, as she heard her office door creak open. She turned her head to the frame and smiled awkwardly at seeing a tall, muscular frame stepping through the threshold.
"Roberts," she spoke, with a hiccup in her voice. "Travis, I mean. Take a seat."
The Blessed One nodded politely and made his way into one of the two empty seats opposite the acting general manager. Cara dropped the broom and nervously grabbed a handful of her hair. She climbed back down to the floor and straightened her skirt.
"Excuse me for just one second," she said, before snatching up her pink purse and power walking out of the room.
She bolted down the hall and hurried into the women's bathroom. She rolled her eyes at seeing the dust covered zombie in the mirror before her and then coughed up a large sum of gravel.
"That bastard is going to pay for this," she muttered to herself.
Cara yanked her purse open and snatched a brush from within. She began hurriedly scraping the dirt out of her hair with one hand, all the while using her other hand to clear eyes ears, nose and mouth of the grime that had collected within her so rapidly.
"SORAGHMAYFLEGHCP JSGFUSMMMMM!!!!"
"No!" Cara spat angrily. "I'm fine! I can take care of myself!"
"LUKMAR OOTAK NOTRO GROAR!!!!!"
"Well the day cleaning some dirt out of my hair becomes comparable to nearly being raped by Chris Austin, I'll give you a call. Until then, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Cara flicked the last piece of grime from her hair, before hurling the brush back into her purse. She then searched through the bag's contents for several seconds, before pulling out a small container of Wet Ones. She pulled one from the packet and carefully wiped it over her face, not wanting to smudge any of her make up. After several silent moments, she had finished. She scrunched the wet tissue up, made sure her face was free of dirt, snatched up her purse and marched out of the room.
"Brrkgm grkll kallh..."
In the hallway, rather than returning to her office, Cara slipped into the nearest utility closet. She pressed her back to the wall and felt herself slide down it, until her rear was seated firmly on the concrete floor. She began quietly sobbing to herself, feeling the warm tears roll down her cheeks.
"It isn't fair..." she wept to herself.
"I know," Declan Prescott responded.
Cara looked up to see her beloved sitting next to her, smiling kindly. She pressed her head to his shoulder, as he wrapped one arm around her light frame.
"You're not really here," she spoke to him.
"No," he confessed, in a calming tone. "I'm only a phone call away, though."
"Great," she mocked, still sniffling. "I can call you and tell you I'm having hallucinations!"
"Who would have thought, huh?" Declan spoke, running his second hand through her hair. "That you would end up being the crazier of the two of us."
Cara grinned, despite herself, and felt the tears stop.
"Once I've spoken to Roberts, I'm coming straight to see you," she said, nuzzling her forehead into Declan's neck.
"The highlight of my day," he responded, kissing her on the forehead.
"You have to go now, don't you?" Cara asked, her muscles tightening at the thought of hearing the answer.
"I'll never really leave you, Cara."
She closed her eyes, pushing a single, final tear down her face. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone. Completely alone.
"Time to do what I have to do, then..."
She stood up, took a tissue and small mirror from her purse and did her best to wipe the smudged make-up away. She then made her way back down the hallway and into her office. Travis Roberts was sitting in her desk chair, his feet on the table and hands behind his head.
"Yep, The Headliner sure could get used to this."
Cara bit down on her bottom lip, smiled broadly and made her way towards the desk. She sat herself down on the wooden frame, beside Roberts feet and gently placed her bag beside her.
"You would, would you?"
Roberts removed his feet from the desk and stood upright.
"Didn't notice you come in," he said. "You were gone quite a while. The Blessed One isn't used to being kept waiting."
He took a step towards his original seat, but Cara stopped him by placing both hands gently on his belt.
"It's okay," she whispered. "That chair suits you."
Roberts smiled and slumped back into the seat.
"Good to see you're finally starting to realise The Headliner's place in the world," he said, gleefully. "At the top!"
"That's right," Cara said, sliding off the desk and kneeling before Roberts. "That's exactly where you belong."
She slumped her head onto Robert's thigh and began rubbing her hands up and down his leg. He instantly nipped to his feet and sprang away from her.
"Woah," he blurted out. "That's one show The Headliner isn't interested in!"
"You don't think I'm pretty?" Cara mumbled, frowning and twisting her hair around her right index finger.
"It's not that," Roberts corrected. "But The Blessed One doesn't involve himself with the boss' girl. That's more trouble than it's worth."
"Declan won't find out," Cara smiled. "He's a dummy."
Her eyes flickered with guilt for one briefest moment. Roberts returned to his original seat, whether he noticed the momentary fall in Cara's defences or not, remained unknown to her.
"I can't say I blame you," Roberts began. "It's only natural to want a piece of The Blessed One. But sadly, Travis Roberts can't cater to all audiences. So was there any reason, besides your hormones, for calling The Headliner here? Because The Blessed One has places to be."
Cara stood up and pushed every muscle she had into holding back the forming tears.
"Just excuse me for one more second," she said, her voice beginning to crack.
"Don't be as long as last time."
Cara nodded and dashed out of the office and back into the women's bathroom, tears once again streaming down her face. She collapsed into a ball on the tiled floor and began balling her eyes out. As she lay there, weeping uncontrollably, one of the cubicle doors swung slowly open. Two figures, the bigger nearly crushing the smaller inside the tiny space, emerged from the cubicle.
"Frughk fknak fohfl wwjfug?"
"No," Cara blubbered, turning on her side so as not to face the pair. "Just leave me alone."
"Hdfooh dgrfopdn hrammk."
The 'words', if they can be described as such, seemed to relax Cara greatly. She stopped crying and sat upright. Aragato extended his hand and Cara slipped hers into his. He pulled her to her feet and Cara smiled in thanks, as she wiped away the water on her cheeks. Komosube watched on, sneering in annoyance.
"Frglmka fhmggu wfftror."
"It's just hard, Aragato," Cara replied. "There's so much pressure on me and I'm not strong enough to do it."
"Frugh dramo frrggmky loketcro."
"I know I have you guys," she said, wrapping her arms around Mr. Deathmatch in a soft hug. "And that's the only reason I'm still trying."
Komosube grunted disapprovingly at the sight, as Aragato stood awkwardly still.
"Krffgh asfkgroar nakty Roberts sorubatd namra?"
"No," Cara replied in defeat. "He wasn't going for it at all. He wouldn't even let me touch him."
"Grufgh! Maknto weraor ytlm erkar noita! Seprhim ata mino keek!!"
The tone of the warrior's voice was intense, but not angered. It was obvious he was speaking words of encouragement. Cara smiled and nodded her head, clearly very reassured.
"Stroking his ego instead, huh?" she replied. "That should work. Thanks so much Aragato!"
She lightly pecked him on the cheek with her lips and then skipped out of the room. Aragato's gaze moved across the room to meet Komosube's. The sumo had his arms stiffly crossed and was shaking his head disapprovingly. Aragato felt a small trickle of sweat run down his forehead.
Back in the GM's temporary office, Travis Roberts was throwing pens at the wall, as if playing darts. Cara Costello soon marched into the room, her brow furrowed and her eyes gleaming with fire. She seated herself firmly in her chair, as Roberts began whistling innocently, brushing the remaining pens over to Cara's side of the desk. The acting GM folded her arms and placed them on the tabletop.
"Listen up," she barked. "I don't like you and you don't like me!"
"I like you," Roberts responded. "Why don't you like The Headliner? He never did anything to harm you. He could have, you know? Last Sentinel, The Blessed One had Global Domination right where he wanted them. But he showed restraint. Mercy even. You should be thanking The Headliner!"
"I think you're delusional," Cara spoke, bluntly. "Your ego is so big, I'm surprised you even have the strength to carry it around. But as obnoxious and conceded as you are, I know a loser is one thing you're not."
"The Blessed One only deals in facts!" Roberts responded, clearly growing agitated. "He is the greatest wrestler of all time and he has the prowess to back up any of his wor -"
"I don't care," Cara said, showing dominance that only one other had ever witnessed. "The flirting, the kindness, it was all an act."
"Hey, don't try and cover for yourself," Roberts replied, smiling broadly. "It's okay to fall to the temptation of The Blessed One. Everyone does."
"Just shut up!" Cara spat, clearly growing incredibly frustrated. "The point is, even if I don't like you, even if I despise you, there's no reason we can't coexist. I want to secure my hold on GIW. You want power... fame... glory. I know you don't want to be in the opening match every week. You want the spotlight of the main event. You want everyone to know who Travis Roberts is. I can give you that!"
"Listen up, butter cup! For your information, Travis Roberts is the biggest star in GIW! Heck, in all of wrestling! The Blessed One doesn't need your help to make a name for himself. Anyone with half a brain already knows he's the greatest athlete of all time! The fact you think he needs you to be the biggest name GIW has ever seen is proof enough that The Headliner isn't the delusional one in this room!"
"I think you're missing the point," Cara replied, trying her best to ignore the red swelling in her face and the vein throbbing in her forehead. "I book the shows. I make the card. I decide who is and isn't a star."
"Ha!" Roberts laughed. "You're trying to threaten The Blessed One?!"
"I'm trying to get you to see reason," Cara responded, leaning over the desk and staring intently into Robert's eyes. "The general manager and The Headliner. Together, nothing would be able to stop us, Travis. GIW is my world and I can hand it to you on a silver platter. You'll probably be ale to obtain legendary statues in GIW on your own. But you have to admit, it'd get done a lot faster with me, and Global Domination, on your side.
"I've booked Travis Roberts vs. Randy Boolzian for Toxic Intent. All you have to do is prove that you're on our side by taking him out. You do that, I give you all the glory and admiration you desire."
Roberts was silent for several moments and then spoke, very matter-of-factly. "Well, The Headliner will think your offer over. Anything else?"
"Well... no..." Cara responded, clearly at a loss for words.
"Than have a pleasant day," Roberts replied, rising to his feet and winking. "Of course, when a day involves an encounter with The Blessed One, how could it not be pleasant?"
Roberts exited the room, still chatting, seemingly to himself, about the wonder he brings to all those he comes across. Cara rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut.
"That guy is unbelievable," she grumbled to herself. "I feel so dirty."
End
"You can do this," she thought to herself.
Suddenly and without warning, the ceiling shuddered and a barrage of dust fell from the crevices and covered every inch of her body.
"Fuck..."
She took hold of a broom leaning against the wall behind her and climbed onto her chair, before beginning to violently slam the handle into the ceiling.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU, DJ?!" she bellowed towards the heavens. "ABOUT USING THE ROOM ABOVE ME DURING BUSINESS HOURS?!?!"
There was no response, except for the ceiling continuing to creak and rock. More dust sprayed onto Cara and she could feel it filling her ears, nose and mouth. After a few moments, hideous wailing began emanating from the room above.
"YOU STUPID FUCKING MAN SLUTS!" she roared at the roof. "I'M NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH THIS BULLSHIT FOREVER YOU HEAR M -"
She instantly stopped, as she heard her office door creak open. She turned her head to the frame and smiled awkwardly at seeing a tall, muscular frame stepping through the threshold.
"Roberts," she spoke, with a hiccup in her voice. "Travis, I mean. Take a seat."
The Blessed One nodded politely and made his way into one of the two empty seats opposite the acting general manager. Cara dropped the broom and nervously grabbed a handful of her hair. She climbed back down to the floor and straightened her skirt.
"Excuse me for just one second," she said, before snatching up her pink purse and power walking out of the room.
She bolted down the hall and hurried into the women's bathroom. She rolled her eyes at seeing the dust covered zombie in the mirror before her and then coughed up a large sum of gravel.
"That bastard is going to pay for this," she muttered to herself.
Cara yanked her purse open and snatched a brush from within. She began hurriedly scraping the dirt out of her hair with one hand, all the while using her other hand to clear eyes ears, nose and mouth of the grime that had collected within her so rapidly.
"SORAGHMAYFLEGHCP JSGFUSMMMMM!!!!"
"No!" Cara spat angrily. "I'm fine! I can take care of myself!"
"LUKMAR OOTAK NOTRO GROAR!!!!!"
"Well the day cleaning some dirt out of my hair becomes comparable to nearly being raped by Chris Austin, I'll give you a call. Until then, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Cara flicked the last piece of grime from her hair, before hurling the brush back into her purse. She then searched through the bag's contents for several seconds, before pulling out a small container of Wet Ones. She pulled one from the packet and carefully wiped it over her face, not wanting to smudge any of her make up. After several silent moments, she had finished. She scrunched the wet tissue up, made sure her face was free of dirt, snatched up her purse and marched out of the room.
"Brrkgm grkll kallh..."
In the hallway, rather than returning to her office, Cara slipped into the nearest utility closet. She pressed her back to the wall and felt herself slide down it, until her rear was seated firmly on the concrete floor. She began quietly sobbing to herself, feeling the warm tears roll down her cheeks.
"It isn't fair..." she wept to herself.
"I know," Declan Prescott responded.
Cara looked up to see her beloved sitting next to her, smiling kindly. She pressed her head to his shoulder, as he wrapped one arm around her light frame.
"You're not really here," she spoke to him.
"No," he confessed, in a calming tone. "I'm only a phone call away, though."
"Great," she mocked, still sniffling. "I can call you and tell you I'm having hallucinations!"
"Who would have thought, huh?" Declan spoke, running his second hand through her hair. "That you would end up being the crazier of the two of us."
Cara grinned, despite herself, and felt the tears stop.
"Once I've spoken to Roberts, I'm coming straight to see you," she said, nuzzling her forehead into Declan's neck.
"The highlight of my day," he responded, kissing her on the forehead.
"You have to go now, don't you?" Cara asked, her muscles tightening at the thought of hearing the answer.
"I'll never really leave you, Cara."
She closed her eyes, pushing a single, final tear down her face. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone. Completely alone.
"Time to do what I have to do, then..."
She stood up, took a tissue and small mirror from her purse and did her best to wipe the smudged make-up away. She then made her way back down the hallway and into her office. Travis Roberts was sitting in her desk chair, his feet on the table and hands behind his head.
"Yep, The Headliner sure could get used to this."
Cara bit down on her bottom lip, smiled broadly and made her way towards the desk. She sat herself down on the wooden frame, beside Roberts feet and gently placed her bag beside her.
"You would, would you?"
Roberts removed his feet from the desk and stood upright.
"Didn't notice you come in," he said. "You were gone quite a while. The Blessed One isn't used to being kept waiting."
He took a step towards his original seat, but Cara stopped him by placing both hands gently on his belt.
"It's okay," she whispered. "That chair suits you."
Roberts smiled and slumped back into the seat.
"Good to see you're finally starting to realise The Headliner's place in the world," he said, gleefully. "At the top!"
"That's right," Cara said, sliding off the desk and kneeling before Roberts. "That's exactly where you belong."
She slumped her head onto Robert's thigh and began rubbing her hands up and down his leg. He instantly nipped to his feet and sprang away from her.
"Woah," he blurted out. "That's one show The Headliner isn't interested in!"
"You don't think I'm pretty?" Cara mumbled, frowning and twisting her hair around her right index finger.
"It's not that," Roberts corrected. "But The Blessed One doesn't involve himself with the boss' girl. That's more trouble than it's worth."
"Declan won't find out," Cara smiled. "He's a dummy."
Her eyes flickered with guilt for one briefest moment. Roberts returned to his original seat, whether he noticed the momentary fall in Cara's defences or not, remained unknown to her.
"I can't say I blame you," Roberts began. "It's only natural to want a piece of The Blessed One. But sadly, Travis Roberts can't cater to all audiences. So was there any reason, besides your hormones, for calling The Headliner here? Because The Blessed One has places to be."
Cara stood up and pushed every muscle she had into holding back the forming tears.
"Just excuse me for one more second," she said, her voice beginning to crack.
"Don't be as long as last time."
Cara nodded and dashed out of the office and back into the women's bathroom, tears once again streaming down her face. She collapsed into a ball on the tiled floor and began balling her eyes out. As she lay there, weeping uncontrollably, one of the cubicle doors swung slowly open. Two figures, the bigger nearly crushing the smaller inside the tiny space, emerged from the cubicle.
"Frughk fknak fohfl wwjfug?"
"No," Cara blubbered, turning on her side so as not to face the pair. "Just leave me alone."
"Hdfooh dgrfopdn hrammk."
The 'words', if they can be described as such, seemed to relax Cara greatly. She stopped crying and sat upright. Aragato extended his hand and Cara slipped hers into his. He pulled her to her feet and Cara smiled in thanks, as she wiped away the water on her cheeks. Komosube watched on, sneering in annoyance.
"Frglmka fhmggu wfftror."
"It's just hard, Aragato," Cara replied. "There's so much pressure on me and I'm not strong enough to do it."
"Frugh dramo frrggmky loketcro."
"I know I have you guys," she said, wrapping her arms around Mr. Deathmatch in a soft hug. "And that's the only reason I'm still trying."
Komosube grunted disapprovingly at the sight, as Aragato stood awkwardly still.
"Krffgh asfkgroar nakty Roberts sorubatd namra?"
"No," Cara replied in defeat. "He wasn't going for it at all. He wouldn't even let me touch him."
"Grufgh! Maknto weraor ytlm erkar noita! Seprhim ata mino keek!!"
The tone of the warrior's voice was intense, but not angered. It was obvious he was speaking words of encouragement. Cara smiled and nodded her head, clearly very reassured.
"Stroking his ego instead, huh?" she replied. "That should work. Thanks so much Aragato!"
She lightly pecked him on the cheek with her lips and then skipped out of the room. Aragato's gaze moved across the room to meet Komosube's. The sumo had his arms stiffly crossed and was shaking his head disapprovingly. Aragato felt a small trickle of sweat run down his forehead.
Back in the GM's temporary office, Travis Roberts was throwing pens at the wall, as if playing darts. Cara Costello soon marched into the room, her brow furrowed and her eyes gleaming with fire. She seated herself firmly in her chair, as Roberts began whistling innocently, brushing the remaining pens over to Cara's side of the desk. The acting GM folded her arms and placed them on the tabletop.
"Listen up," she barked. "I don't like you and you don't like me!"
"I like you," Roberts responded. "Why don't you like The Headliner? He never did anything to harm you. He could have, you know? Last Sentinel, The Blessed One had Global Domination right where he wanted them. But he showed restraint. Mercy even. You should be thanking The Headliner!"
"I think you're delusional," Cara spoke, bluntly. "Your ego is so big, I'm surprised you even have the strength to carry it around. But as obnoxious and conceded as you are, I know a loser is one thing you're not."
"The Blessed One only deals in facts!" Roberts responded, clearly growing agitated. "He is the greatest wrestler of all time and he has the prowess to back up any of his wor -"
"I don't care," Cara said, showing dominance that only one other had ever witnessed. "The flirting, the kindness, it was all an act."
"Hey, don't try and cover for yourself," Roberts replied, smiling broadly. "It's okay to fall to the temptation of The Blessed One. Everyone does."
"Just shut up!" Cara spat, clearly growing incredibly frustrated. "The point is, even if I don't like you, even if I despise you, there's no reason we can't coexist. I want to secure my hold on GIW. You want power... fame... glory. I know you don't want to be in the opening match every week. You want the spotlight of the main event. You want everyone to know who Travis Roberts is. I can give you that!"
"Listen up, butter cup! For your information, Travis Roberts is the biggest star in GIW! Heck, in all of wrestling! The Blessed One doesn't need your help to make a name for himself. Anyone with half a brain already knows he's the greatest athlete of all time! The fact you think he needs you to be the biggest name GIW has ever seen is proof enough that The Headliner isn't the delusional one in this room!"
"I think you're missing the point," Cara replied, trying her best to ignore the red swelling in her face and the vein throbbing in her forehead. "I book the shows. I make the card. I decide who is and isn't a star."
"Ha!" Roberts laughed. "You're trying to threaten The Blessed One?!"
"I'm trying to get you to see reason," Cara responded, leaning over the desk and staring intently into Robert's eyes. "The general manager and The Headliner. Together, nothing would be able to stop us, Travis. GIW is my world and I can hand it to you on a silver platter. You'll probably be ale to obtain legendary statues in GIW on your own. But you have to admit, it'd get done a lot faster with me, and Global Domination, on your side.
"I've booked Travis Roberts vs. Randy Boolzian for Toxic Intent. All you have to do is prove that you're on our side by taking him out. You do that, I give you all the glory and admiration you desire."
Roberts was silent for several moments and then spoke, very matter-of-factly. "Well, The Headliner will think your offer over. Anything else?"
"Well... no..." Cara responded, clearly at a loss for words.
"Than have a pleasant day," Roberts replied, rising to his feet and winking. "Of course, when a day involves an encounter with The Blessed One, how could it not be pleasant?"
Roberts exited the room, still chatting, seemingly to himself, about the wonder he brings to all those he comes across. Cara rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut.
"That guy is unbelievable," she grumbled to herself. "I feel so dirty."
End
