==========
Off Camera
==========
One down and
how many more to go before I get my shots?
Well, actually, I beat two pieces of crap named Brooklyn McDaniel and
Dmitri Regas; so I guess that’s two down…two little scrawny nobodies who fell
to the power of Mark O’Brian!
Ok, that
sounded like a nerd came up with it, forget I said anything. Point is, people questioned my decision to go
to Emerge, which some thought was a step-down for me. I viewed it not as a step down but as an
opportunity to hone my own craft and show what I can do on my own without my
sister Sophie.
Truthfully,
this isn’t just about trying to prove that I can wrestle and win on my
own. I already know I can and don’t need
to prove it to anyone else. The other
reason I’m in Emerge is so to get away from it all. Specifically, I need to get away from
Sophie. The more I’m around her the more
frustrated I get and the more frustrated I get the angrier I get.
Sophie is a
smart girl. She boasts about being among
the smartest women in the world and, to be honest, she isn’t far off the mark
there. Few can match her in terms of
brain power. And that’s what makes it so
frustrating, because as smart as she is, she is allowing herself to be
controlled and used by this little bitch named Quinn Murray.
What bugs me
even more about all this is the fact that I pushed her to this. I encouraged
her to go to square one, to go back to where she began, see if she could learn
something new; but I never expected or anticipated her to devote her entire
self to this crazy woman.
That’ll
teach me to keep my mouth shut.
Right now I’m
in the dining room, a place that my sister might describe as being drab but my
wife says is elegant. Perhaps the dining
room was elegant in a minimalist sort of way? The room echoed the outside world. The table dominated the space, an elongated
ellipse of oak with the raw bark at the edges. The chairs, each one beautiful in its
simplicity, all clean straight lines and high backs, were placed around the
table. I sit at one of them, with a
bottle of Scotch in front of me.
I’m
currently lost in thought, so much so that I don’t even hear the dining room
door creak open. I barely hear the voice
that breaks the silence…
“Mark?”
It startles
me back to reality. I suddenly turn to
spot my wife, the beautiful Ashley O’Brian, standing there. She looks damn fine in her soft satin and
eyelash lace pink teddy. As good as she
looks, she also looks that much concerned; concerned about me, no doubt, as she
looks right into my eyes.
“Yeah…” I say gruffly while taking
another swig of the Scotch “…watcha want,
babe?”
“I would like my husband to come to bed
sometime tonight.” She remarks as she approaches the table. “But he seems too busy getting drunk.”
“Sorry about that, Ash, but it puts my mind
at ease.” I take another swig of Scotch. Ashley clearly isn’t happy as she
glares angrily at me. If looks could
kill, I’d probably be dead.
“You know, Mark, talking to your wife could
also put your mind at ease.”
“Not this time, Ash.” I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Ashley sits
down next to me. I try to take another sip of Scotch but she takes the bottle
away from me and places it back down on the table. I turn and gaze into her eyes, eyes that are
partially full of anger and partially full of kindness.
“Let me help.”
“You wouldn’t be able to help.”
“I can’t help unless you let me try!”
Her voice sounds more and more frustrated.
Finally I sigh and nod my head.
“Ok, alright, you want to know what bloody
disturbs me at this time of night, babe?
It’s my sister. It’s Sophie.”
“Sophie?” I nod my head and Ashley
shakes her head. “Stop. Don’t beat
yourself up over her.”
“I knew it’d turn out this way.” I roll
my eyes. “See what I mean? You just don’t get it. You can’t help.”
“What’s there not to understand?” She
asks curiously. “She abandoned you and
for what? For who? That crazy woman? If that’s how she’s going to treat you, then
I wonder just how much she actually cared about you to begin with. Do you know what I mean, Mark?”
I chuckle
lightly before reaching over and swiping the bottle of Scotch from her. I take another swig of it before placing it back
down onto the table.
“No, I don’t understand,” I point a
finger at my wife “and neither do you,
Ash. Just as I said…”
“Then by all means, fill me in on what I don’t
understand. Clearly I’m missing something here.
How could anyone who claims to love you and care for you abandon you the
way she did? It makes no sense to me.”
She shakes her head. Then Ashley reaches
over and grabs me by my hands and squeezes them tightly. “I do want to help, Mark. So
please, help me to make sense of all of this.”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, I really want to know.” She says,
nodding her head.
“Fine….well let’s start with that ‘crazy
woman’ you talked about. A few weeks ago
I spoke to her and she threatened to take Sophie away from me. I didn’t believe her threats, I thought they
were nonsense. How could she take Sophie
away from me? I just took her as a
lunatic, especially when she claimed that she owned Sophie.”
I shake my
head. “I was wrong, Ash. She does own Sophie. And I don’t know if it’s blackmail shit or
brainwashing shit or whatever, but she has Sophie jumping through hoops like a
fucking puppet. Sophie has openly told
me that she is nothing more than this woman’s personal toy and pet. Now I ask you, does that sound like the
Sophie O’Brian you know?”
“No…” Ashley’s voice trails off as she shakes
her head.
“No, it doesn’t. It’s because it isn’t the Sophie you know, it
isn’t my sister. I don’t know what she
did to my sister but my sister is gone and…and…” I sigh and take another
sip of the Scotch “…oh what do you care
anyway? You’ve always hated Sophie. You’re probably glad she’s gone.”
“You’re right, I never did much care for
Sophie, but I do care for you and it pains me seeing you hurting like this
because of what’s happening to her.
Besides no individual, male or female, should be someone’s property.”
“Nice thought, babe, but what can either of
us do about it? I barely get to see her
now. If either of us interfere, I’ve
been told Sophie will never see me again.”
“That’s your sister you’re talking about,
Mark.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Are you honestly telling me you believe she’d
choose that crazy woman over her?”
“Uh…”
Ashley holds
up a hand over my mouth to silence me. “Mark,
smartest woman in wrestling or not, sociopath or not, at the end of the day she
is your sister, and if there is any human quality to her at all, then she’ll
choose you. You two have been so much
together. You endured years of torment and physical abuse from your
father. You worked your asses off
together training to be wrestlers. You
were both in the same wrestling companies together.”
“You’re right, Ash. We have a hell of a big history
together. I’m just not much of a gambler,
you know? I don’t know if I want to risk
losing her.”
“I guess you have a question to answer then.”
“What’s that?”
“How much do you trust your sister?”
==========
On Camera
==========
Emerge 5 was
the night I put this entire roster on notice.
Hell, I put SCW on notice too with my dominating, destructive
performance against Brooklyn McDaniel and Dmitri Regas. I tossed the little
bitches around like rag dolls and when I was done playing around I dropped them
both like bad habits. I told you all
that I was a damn Sherman Tank; you can’t stop me! You cannot stop my destructive force!
Now I’m in a
six person tag, a match that’s being labeled “Strange Bedfellows” because I don’t
got no damn clue who the bloody hell these idiots are! Actually, I do know Drake Hemmingway. We’ve had history in GCW. But outside that, no clue; and I don’t care
either. Drake and Kaito should be on
their hands and fucking knees thanking whatever deity they worship that they
got me as their tag team partner. I am
what you might call a tag team specialist.
It’s what I do best. I’ve won tag
team titles in every company I’ve been with.
So trust me, I know a thing or two about winning tag team matches.
I also know
a thing or two about running over the competition. So Drake and Kaito can just stay out of my
damn way and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.
I’ll wipe out Anarchy, Cent, and Dillinger and get us that win all on my
damn own.
Why? Because I can.
It doesn’t
take a rocket scientist to see the writing on the wall here. It doesn’t take a genius to see who is gonna
win this one. Not only does one team
have all the tag experience and all of the destructive force of a Sherman Tank,
but the opposing side can’t work together worth a damn.
Jason
Dillinger, who clearly has a major hard on for Peyton Rice, who just so happens
to be feuding with Dillinger’s tag partner Dylan Cent. Do you think Dillinger wants to win or wants
to impress his crush by taking out Dylan Cent?
The big idiot
will think with his dick just as he always does and sabotage his team. Sure, he’ll lose, but at least he’ll make Peyton
smile.
Dumbass.
Alex Anarchy,
sorry for your damn luck. Looks like you’re
stuck between a rock and a dumbass piece of garbage. You’re stuck on a team that is destined to
implode.
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