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All Rights and Trademarks
Topic Started: Jun 17 2011, 07:38 PM (229 Views)
Deleted User
Deleted User

NEW Head Offices.
13:43pm.


“So, what’s the plan?”

Vic turned me to, resting his arms on his knees. We’d been sitting in this room for well over an hour now and still the formalities hadn’t been set in place about where we both go from here. Myself and Vic had become close over the past couple of weeks, closer than I’d ever thought we would. A week ago the man hated me; in fact he didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Now, he’d helped me through a bad patch in my life singlehandedly. This man was my saviour, and everything I do in the future could perhaps be owned to him. Admittedly, myself and Jack lost the titles at the pay per view, a loss which was quite hard to take. But Vic was there. He had my back, telling me everything would be fine and we’d soon get another shot at those bitches. We’d get our titles back just as quickly as we won them. The whole tag team thing was going well, surprisingly well. That’s not to say I didn’t think it would. Well, honestly, I had my doubts. I think both Jack and I had our doubts to begin with. A team thrust together out of Travis Blaine’s tag team initiative. No one believed in us to begin with, and fair play to them. Why should they? But look at us. We proved them wrong. Now Vic was here, backing me up, and there’s no stopping us. Ace High are unstoppable.

Vic looked up at me, his hands still resting on his knees. Immaculately dressed, Vic appeared to own a vast selection of suits, all at his disposal. For a man who beats the living crap out of people for a living, he was always smartly dressed. I admired that about him, I truly did. In fact, I took a page out of his book and recently bought a couple of suits. Nice ones. Hey, new start in life, new wardrobe right?

The room was cold, the air con making a loud buzzing noise above us. Like I said, we’d been in this room over an hour now, just waiting for something to happen. We’d both been invited to NEW headquarters to discuss a possible role for Vic in the company. I don’t think Vic was too thrilled about the possible prospect of joining NEW. After all, Vic wasn’t a wrestler. He was a fighter and he prided himself on that label. To him, wrestlers were fake. We were the theatrics of the sport community. The baby oil, funny flips and general fakeness which followed us made him think that we weren’t on his level. In truth, I think Vic believed he was better than this. Perhaps he was, but lately he hadn’t been getting many bookings and nothing seemed to be happening for him. At least this way he’d have some steady work, but all in all I highly doubted he would place his signature on that dotted line.


“Well, it’s up to you Vic.”

Letting up a puff, Victor leaned back in his chair. His arms crossed behind his head as he contemplated this choice. I didn’t want to sway his decision; I couldn’t do that to the guy. No, this was his move. His motives and intentions needed to be at the forefront of his mind, not whether or not he should look after me because I’m fucked in the head. I didn’t want to ruin a man’s life just to be my minder. I sat waiting, looking around the room at anything to keep my attention. Avoiding eye contact with Vic was hard, because I knew if I looked at him he’d find a way of bringing me into this choice. On the wall hung a large, framed photo of Dean Jones, title over shoulder as he leans over the ropes. An iconic moment in this company. I wanted my photo up there one day, holding that same belt. I nearly had it too at the pay per view, but it wasn’t to be. Final ten men in the brawl, so close yet so far. Story of my life really. That could have been my chance to excel, instead I’m back in the tag division with Jack. Sure, Jack’s cool but do I see myself doing this with him for the rest of my career? What have I got, like, five, ten more years, tops? Do I want to be tagging with him for all of that? Honestly, no, I don’t. I think Jack feels the same too, I mean, he’s young, he’s got everything ahead of him. I’m sure he’ll go far, but pairing up with me isn’t going to get him there. No, I don’t want this to go on forever, and when I get the chance to take an opportunity I will, whether or not it screws Jack over or not. This business is cruel, harsh; I’ve got to acknowledge that and just forget about ties and emotions. That’s exactly what Vic needs to do. Don’t come into this business because of me, Vic, come into it because you want to.

I catch his eye. We both stare at one another until he smiles.


“Okay, I know what I want to do.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Josh, I’m sure. I’ll sign it. I’ll be with you for your matches and whatever. I’m in.”

And there it was. Victor Parrish, NEW talent. I turn to the empty desk. A single, white piece of paper lay on the table. His contract. I reach over and slide it towards him. This is his life he’s about to sign away, theoretically to me. I will own him in this business. That’s the first thing it says in the contract. All rights and trademarks owned by NEW with part ownership relating to NEW talent Reno Taylor. Victor Parrish is about to become a trademark. I remember the first contract I signed. I was 22 years old and I signed for Sychotic Wrestling Alliance. I remember thinking to myself, Christ, they’re taking my livelihood away from me. Everything. They own everything about me once I sign this. It’s scary. Real fucking scary. I don’t anyone ever really gets over that. It sounds stupid, but it’s fundamental. Vic didn’t seem bothered though. He smiled, took the pen off the table and did a fancy scribble on the line. There it was. Victor Parrish had become a member of NEW. In that moment, I had no only acquired a manager, I’d acquired a friend.

“Well, that’s it then I guess.”

Vic dropped the pen and stood up. I too got up and made my way to the door.

“Happy?”

“Yeah, quite happy. You’ve got a manager, I’ve got a pay check.”

“But, you did this because you wanted to, right?”

Silence. Vic didn’t reply, just smiled politely back at me. Turning towards the door, he went to open it. I couldn’t just let this go, so I grabbed him by the arm to stop him leaving.

“Vic, tell me you did this because you wanted to.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say. Perhaps I wanted him to turn around and say that becoming a manager is what he’d always dreamed of, or that signing with a wrestling company had been his dream since he saw Superfly jump off the cage in the Garden. I think I wanted him to say all those stereotypical memories which wrestlers spew out about watching wrestling with their fathers and asking if one day they could jump like that, then their fathers turning around giving some bullshit about this being the sport of immortals. Perhaps that’s exactly what I wanted him to say, but I knew he wouldn’t. Having done this, been through everything we had together over the last week, I don’t really know what I expected him to say. What I was thinking at the time is quite beyond me. Why would bringing Vic into this company help? The man hated wrestling, he hated me only a week ago. Yet bringing him in would fix all this. What a load of crap.

“Josh, what do you want me to say?”

That. Everything. Everything I’ve just thought I want you to say to me. No, wait. I want you to say you want this. Tell me you want to be here.

“Just, the truth.”

“Josh, Reno, whatever you want to be called. You think this is what I want? Really? Josh, I don’t want this. Why on earth would I want this? I’m not a wrestler. Josh, I hate wrestling. This business is just shit, it’s pure fakery. Nothing is real about this, this place, these people. I mean, look at you, people call you by a name that has no real association with you. Your name is Joshua Taylor. You were engaged to Gemma Parrish. You are not Reno, this is not you. If you think for a damn minute I’m going to walk in here and pretend this is what I want, then you’re deluded. Josh, man, listen. Yeah, we’re close now. Probably closer than we’ve ever been. But managing you, holding your hand to the ring, that’s not my deal. I hit people for a living man. I hit them hard. Yet for some reason no one wants to hire a guy with a good right hook but a bad…”

He stopped. He stopped as if something was about to be released which he didn’t want people knowing about. Vic was holding something back, something big. I knew it. His eyes avoided mine, tension filled the air. I asked myself whether or not to push it, but decided against it. A friendship as thin as ours is not worth risking at this stage, not yet anyway. No, I knew if I pushed it, pushed him, this whole thing would come to a colossal halt. I’ve seen Vic when he’s angry, when he’s mad. I didn’t want to see it again, not after what he did to Nate Glancy. That was bad, very bad. That was the one and only time Gemma actually got truly upset with her brother. I think it was then she turned away from the whole sports entertainment business. It was around then when I quit wrestling actually, because of her. Vic’s anger then led to my retirement. He knew that too, he knew what he did disgusted her. I think in turn it disgusted him too. We all have our demons, clearly. His is anger, violence, what have you. I decided not to follow up on his statement. I smiled.

“Okay, okay Vic. That’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Christ Reno, stop acting like a pathetic child. I’ve just you I hate this fucking business and all you’ve got to say is that’s fine?”

I didn’t know what to say. In fact, I did. I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I wanted to say to him how this business is the only thing in my life that actually means something to me now. This business gave me my big chance in life, gave me the damn money to buy these stupid suits I’m wearing. This business contains people I’m proud to call my friends, my family. I’ve gone out to that ring nearly every week of my life and taken on countless men and women. What did I have to show for it? Nothing, really. The tag titles Jack and I won from the Brooklyn Bad Boys were really the first titles I’d held consistently. Sure, it was short lived, but holding that title made me feel something. It made me feel special, noticed, admired. People started to say things about me, praise me, praise Jack. No one had ever done that before in this business. That’s what I wanted to say to Vic. I wanted to say to him that this business showed me more damn respect and admiration than anyone in my life. Sure, it’s flawed. It has its little gimmicks and personalities which make the news for all the wrong reasons. We have a clown. We have a couple of psychos. We have some gamblers. Yeah, we’ve got everything here. Now we had Vic, and he hated that.

I don’t understand why Vic hated the business so much. I remember in London, just after the match, Jack and I came back to the locker rooms. Jack went into the shower straight away, whilst I hung around to catch my breath. Vic was there, sitting on the chair thumbing through a book. He didn’t even look up at me, not even a piece of acknowledgement. I knew he’d been watching the match, the monitor was right next to his feet. I remember asking him about the match, and all I got back was a laugh. A small, pathetic laugh. A laugh that said everything, pretty much. A laugh which said to me how much of a joke I am, that me and Jack were. Then, with a cocky grin, he got up, put the book on his chair and slapped me on the arm. With that, me told me that as long as it makes me happy. I remember thinking to myself, wow, how patronising can you get. In fact, after all this thought, that’s what I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him two simple words. Two words which would sum up my thoughts on his thoughts. Two words. Fuck off. Yeah, those two words. That’s what I wanted to tell him. If only I’d had the guts to say those two words. Instead, I was too afraid to lose someone in my life again. I didn’t want to be alone, so I gave in.


“It’s fine.”

Vic laughed at me, astonished at how pathetic I was. I was astonished myself.

“See you at the show Josh.”

“Where you going?”

“I need a drink after signing my life away.”

With that, Vic opened the door and left the room. A potential friendship on the verge of breaking down. I found it hard to think how we could both work at this. Hell, it was too early to be focusing on that. I had our match with the Bad Boys to contemplate on. If Jack and I could win this one we’d surely be back in the title race. We needed this win, we had to win, or else I don’t think I could see this team continuing. If it didn’t, all I’d have would be Vic, and at that point in time I didn’t think he’d be such a good man to have in my corner.

323 Westbrook Apartment Complex.
Las Vegas, Nevada.
22:58pm


I’d been home a while now. It was a short flight to Vegas, a night flight. Vic, I didn’t know where he was. I tried calling him but nothing. I remember thinking he obviously wanted to be left alone which was fair enough. I wasn’t going to go after him. After the revelation I’d had earlier, I didn’t particularly want to be near him. No, instead I sat down in my chair and flicked on the lamp. I loved my apartment. It was safe. A safe haven for me. Then, the phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket. It was Jack.

“Jack, it’s late. What’s up? You all set for the tag match?”

“Dude, I hear that Parrish guy has signed to NEW. What the hell?”

Jack was pissed. I hadn’t told him about Victor, perhaps I should have. Afterall, he’d be associated with both of us from now on. I got the feeling the two didn’t mix well. Jack, after all, was an acquired taste. Most didn’t like his personality. Truthfully, at times neither did I. But Jack was my partner, for now, and I had to accept what he was.

“Yeah, man, sorry about that. They offered him something because of his size and background in fighting. He wanted to take it, I think, so that was it really.”

“Fucks sake Reno. We’re a fucking tag team man and you’re just bringing in anyone and everything into this thing.”

“Jack, calm the fuck down.”

“No fucking way man! Our first match, no one gives a shit about us. Now we’ve had the titles and are working our way up every fucking bum and junkie prick wants to jump on us and take what we have. We’ve got tshirts and shit and now these people want to sponge off us.”

“Vic ain’t like that.”

“No? So why the fuck is he going around saying how he’s only in this for the pay check?”

Vic said that? Great. So now it was public knowledge.

“Jack, look, Vic’s reasons are his own…”

“…Fuck that Reno. This guy’s only come because he wants our shit. This isn’t gonna happen.”

“That’s not the reason, Jack.”

“So what is it Reno?”

I didn’t want to tell Jack about the airport situation. About the jail and drugs and shit. No. I couldn’t risk him knowing about that. That could have made everything a whole lot worse.

“Jack, just trust me. He’s not like that.”

“Reno, we’re partners man. But this isn’t right. If he’s bringing someone in on this then so am I.”

With that, Jack hung up. At that moment it looked like Vic had made our team even more rocky than it was before. Jack was pissed, understandably. The two didn’t see eye to eye originally. I didn’t blame him for what he said. By the sounds of things Ace High was going to get a whole lot bigger very quickly. With that, I switched off the lamp and sat in the darkness of my apartment, contemplating my future in the company. Either Vic with me would do wonders, or it’d be the end of what family I had left. I thought that the latter would be more likely. I instantly began to regret Victor finding me again. I instantly began to regret everything about the last week. This was my fault, my fault alone. With that, I shut my eyes and imagined her with me. She’d know what to do. If only she was here. If only.

Gemma.

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