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Every Little Thing
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Topic Started: Aug 15 2012, 09:06 PM (138 Views)
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Spencer
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Aug 15 2012, 09:06 PM
Post #1
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- Posts:
- 432
- Group:
- Members
- Member
- #145
- Joined:
- September 11, 2010
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10 AM "I didn't expect you to understand."
Damen sits across from Spencer, dumbfounded. He takes a second to collect and organize his thoughts.
"I...I just don't know..."
Spencer pushes the chair back and gets up, slowly walking around the table and placing a limp hand on his lackey's shoulder.
"It's just time..."
Damen leans back in his chair, folding under Spencer's touch.
"Time for what, though?"
Spencer swiftly takes his hand off Damen and opens the refrigerator door, examining it's nearly bare contents. Damen just stares blankly at the table.
"Time for change...to move on. Rethink things."
Spencer pulls out an unopened Gatorade and sets it down on the table. Damen shifts in his seat, still not completely understanding Spencer's words. Spencer sits back down, hands folded and stretched out.
"But...why, Spencer? Why now?"
Spencer breathes in deep and stares Damen down.
"You're going to go home to your family, Damen. You're going to see them, you're going to resume loving them, you are going to resume normal life-"
Damen shakes his head.
"No..."
"You are going to take what I've given you, and apply it to your life."
Damen starts rocking, frantically running his fingers through his greasy, unwashed hair.
"You are going to live, change, grow, you're going to blossom...you're going to survive without me."
"I said no..."
"Damen..."
"My name...isn't...Damen."
Spencer sighs.
"Damen. You need to-"
"What if I don't want to?!"
Damen gets up from the table and begins pacing. Spencer, meanwhile, simply leans back and checks his phone. His jaw muscles tense up as he places it down on the table. It vibrates loudly against the wood, but Damen ignores it. Spencer can't take his eyes off of it.
"You always talk about what I need to do, but it's like you never think about what I WANT. WHAT I WANT. What if I LIKE serving a higher purpose, Spencer? What if I don't want to see my family, go back to the way things were...have you even thought about if they'd even take me back? If they ever want to see my face again?"
Spencer remains silent, still glaring at this phone, which just ceased it's ringing. He looks back up at Damen.
"...you don't realize what you've done to me. You changed me; you changed the way people look at me. My family, my MOTHER, can't just forget about what you've done, what I've let you do. You laid me up in a hospital bed, you embarrassed me in front of everyone I grew up with, and you did it as a point of pride. A point of initiation. I never regretted the bruises you gave me, I never regretted the bones you came a hair of a second away from breaking, I never even regretted the blood I lost. But I still feel those bruises. I still feel my bones bending and screaming out for help. I still remember that megaphone exploding over my skull...I remember everything, and I still don't regret any of it...but after everything I've done for you, you don't get to tell me we're done. You don't get to just kick me to the god damn curb."
Damen watches cautiously as Spencer deliberately gets out from his chair and walks behind it, pushing it back under the table. He wraps a tight grip around the top of the chair, and sighs. Damen steps an inch closer.
"I'm not going home, Spencer. I won't."
Spencer pushes the chair over and steps right in front of Damen, breathing heavily in his face. He sneers.
"I wasn't leaving it up to you."
Spencer tilts his head and points at the door.
"Now get out...of my hotel room."
Damen shamefully lowers his head to the ground and exhales.
"No."
Spencer shakes his head and smirks in complete disbelief.
"What did you just say?"
Damen looks Spencer dead in the face.
"I said...n-"
Spencer grabs Damen by the hair and slams his face into the cabinet. He pushes him down to his knees.
"You son of a bitch..."
Spencer backhands Damen across the face, the blood trickling down from his forehead smearing across his fingers.
"This...is not...about...you."
A kick in the ribs. Damen falls to his back, not even bothering to plead for mercy. Spencer stands over him.
"Vindication is mine, Damen. It's something I'm going to do on my own.
Damen coughs and spits on the floor beside him.
"And what about Rollz?"
Another slap. Spencer crouches down.
"What's between me and Rollz is none of your business; I'll handle Rollz. But right now, I'm handling you, and I'm telling you, to go home."
Spencer wipes Damen's blood off on the tile floor.
"You can forget all about this Sunday, Damen, because you're not going to be at Vindication. I'm not going to let you. What I will let you do, though, is go back to Wales and be with your family. Tell them how wrong you were, how sorry you are, to have ever picked a person like me over them. Tell them that you were stupid, that you were nothing more than a little sheep, happily trotting alongside whoever dangled fame and recognition in front of your face. You're not about serving my higher purpose, Damen, you never were. You're a fake. A false prophet, leeching off of me, my life-blood, my generous teachings, and now? Now your time is up. Everybody's time is up. You won't be at Vindication, Damen...you'll be home, or wherever you choose to go, so long as it's far away from me. I don't care where you are, or if your family accepts you, I just want you gone; and I don't want to have to resort to plan B. Because plan B...I don't wait that hair of a second. I don't hesitate to break every useful bone in your body. The one lesson you haven't learned yet is that NOBODY...says no to Spencer Riggs. Spencer Riggs is always going to get what he wants, and what I want this time...is that World Heavyweight Title. And with you gone, with Chris Rollz gone, I don't need to worry about excuses, or distractions, or babysitting. I just need to worry about me...about winning; all on my own."
Spencer buries his fist into Damen's chest and rises to his feet. He points to the door again.
"You like talking about needs and wants in life? I don't just not need you, I don't even want you. You're nothing to me, Damen. Not even a blank slate, a canvas, to paint my image on. You're just a hopeless, valueless, lost cause, so far beyond the point of retrieval. Beyond the point of ever being found. So, do me a favor. Get the fuck out...get the fuck out, and don't you ever dare come back."
Spencer helps Damen up to a somewhat standing position, and guides him to the door. Damen barely moves on his own accord, nor does he utter a single sound or word. Spencer unlocks and opens the entrance back to Damen's old life and now new life, and stands back.
"Go, Damen."
Damen stares out into the morning light, and slowly limps out on his own. Spencer slams the door shut behind him. He exhales, places his hands on his hips and glances back at the kitchen table...at his phone. He shakes his head and walks into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
3 PM
A dial tone. Spencer lies on his bed, rubbing his eyes and breathing in as he waits for whoever he's calling to pick up. He dangles his arm off the side of the bed, his expectations disappearing with every ring. He sighs and goes to take the phone away from his ear, but a muffled "Yo" is faintly heard. Spencer raises his eyebrows in shock.
"Rollz, wasn't expecting you to answer...how you been, man? Busy...I know. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Yeah, yeah...I was just thinkin...since you got so much other shit going on right now, maybe it's best if you just forgot about Vindication? I know, you wanna be there for me...but...I don't know. You've done a lot for me, Rollz. Since I was still a kid. But I'm not just asking you this because I know you're busy, I have...selfish reasons too."
Spencer laughs.
"Yeah, I know, not a surprise. Look though...I have to do this on my own. It's time for me to really move on, grow up; you're a part of a time in life I'd like to try and forget about. It's nothing against you, I know we're gonna keep in touch when we can, but this thing we got going now...it isn't gonna work out. Damen? I told Damen the same thing...just a little differently. Yeah. He's wandering around Orlando with a limp in his step right now. I don't know...I told him to go back to his family. I don't even know if he has a family to go back to anymore."
Awkward silence.
"Anyway, just...promise me you'll at least set aside the time to watch me win. Yeah, yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I'll put it this way...he gave me the impression that he's hoping to drop the strap and take a break after, you know? I've seen his best, it isn't that much, but it's something still. I don't know what happened. He definitely has the fallback plan now though...same shit that happened with him and Troy. He didn't even really try. Whatever, though. Not like he's Troy Turner, and it's not even like this was about him anyways. I'm ready, Rollz. Did I tell you about what I got planned when I-"
Spencer waits on hold as some sort of commotion is heard in the background. Rollz starts talking again.
"No...no I understand. I'll shoot you a text about it later. Be easy...and...thanks for everything. Seriously. Alright, peace."
Spencer ends the call and goes back to staring at his phone. One missed call. One voicemail. He puts his hand over his face and rubs his temple, breathing out loudly through his mouth. He slowly hovers his thumb over the screen, and lets it hang there for a second. He presses "Listen." Phone up to his ear, he stares up at the ceiling.
You have, one, unheard message. First, unheard message.
"SQQWWWWAAAAAKKKK"
Spencer quickly pulls the phone away from his ear, when...

...that thing comes crashing through his window, dropping rolled up parchment onto his lap and flying back out again. Spencer stares at the wall in front of him, nervously breathing in and out. He stares at the paper, and slowly unravels it. He begins reading.
Dear, Master
I was not expecting you to answer my phone call, and I always stumble over myself when leaving a voicemail, so I decided to write this to you instead. Hopefully by this point you have met my pet bird Theodus, or Theo for short. He is my latest experiment, as I think you will be proud to know I have resumed your work in cross-species mutation, finding it to be delightfully fun. I own and maintain farmland in Sau Paulo, Brazil, where all of my children are allowed to roam free and play. Your grandchildren are doing fine, by the way...they have grown so fast. I am contemplating releasing them into the wild, though I am unsure what effects they would have on this planet's food chain. Anyway, I have lost my plane of thought...I am not expecting you to understand why I have attempted contact with you, Master. I would like to talk to you though, soon. Perhaps before Vindication. I am aware of how busy your schedule must be at this point in time, so I will understand if you decline this offer, or even choose to ignore it. I am deeply sorry for doing the latter to you previously, especially due to the lengths you went to in order to find me. Words cannot express my shame. The timing just was not right, though. It felt like you still needed me, that...you still wanted me as part of your life. The last time I left you a message of this kind, you were in a very bad place. I am now, however tremendously pleased to see how far you have come since then. You do not need me anymore, Master, which is why I have chosen this moment to speak with you. I do miss you, deeply, and the times we had. I do not wish for a return, as we have both clearly moved past them...but I do wish for one last meeting, one last hoorah with my best friend. I would love to congratulate you, in person, for the all the success you have found. Please do not hesitate to contact me, Master. It is time we met again.
Love, Zenith
P.P.S- Yes, I can fly. You just never asked (:
Spencer folds the paper back up and remains motionless. The scene fades out as Spencer begins to speak over the darkness.
The thing about trying to get away from your past, trying to stay in control, is that it only takes one thing...big or small, meaningful or not...to pull you back in. This Sunday, I will be your World Heavyweight Champion, because none of this...is going change a thing. RAW Randy Altzer has proven himself to be a disappointment, a champion not worthy of your respect or admiration. He let all of you down. I called him a childish, amateur bitch, not at all anticipating him to respond in such a way that would so sufficiently confirm such a labeling...but he did. He proved it. He proved that he's a child, singing songs about James Stall, calling me a boob. He proved he's amateur, calling me a bitch and talking about the way people perceive me, acting like his words have any weight to them. And then, he proved he's a bitch, by lying down and letting me take his title away without the slightest hint of a fight. Maybe he's tired. Maybe he doesn't want to be champion. I don't know what's going on in his head, and frankly, I don't care. Zenith or no Zenith, nothing stops this train. Nothing stops time...my time. I will not be distracted. I will not falter. I will not lose. Time brings change, change brings new life, new meaning. Spencer Riggs is time. Spencer Riggs is change. The night of August 19th, Spencer Riggs is your World Heavyweight Champion, and the day of August 20th, Spencer Riggs...is your inevitable, inescapable future.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Time's up.
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