Post by Nate Harris on Mar 17, 2018 3:20:00 GMT
“Thank you so much for watching the girls.” Paige Harris, brushed her graying hair out of her face.
“You know Zoe’s old enough to take care of em both right?” Nate asked his mother as he watched his sisters grab their bags.
“I feel more comfortable having someone watch them.” Paige asserted. “Where’s Nick? I don’t want to stop by without saying hello.”
“Showering.” Nate motioned to the bathroom. “I’ll tell him you were here.”
“Mm. you two should come by for dinner, you know? Be nice to see you both.”
“Could take you all out for dinner.” Nate offered. “Dad can’t wrinkle his nose at where the money comes from now, can he?”
“Don’t.” she shook her head. “I don’t mind cooking.”
“Mom.”
“I’ve seen what that business does to people like you, baby.” Paige gave him a pained look. “I don’t know why you think your body is the only way to get ahead.”
“You make me sound like a hooker. It was sex work but I didn’t—“
“You could find a good job where you keep your clothes on. Accounting? You know you could work a desk without much trouble.”
“Mom, I’m good at it. Seriously, if you ever watched you’d know that.”
“For how long? How long before one of those angry white men damage you beyond walking it off?” She shook her head. “Girls, the car’s waiting, come on!”
“Mom, I can do this. Me and Nick, we got this in the bag.”
“I’m not going to watch my baby get beaten up. I’m certainly not paying more to watch it then I do to keep up to date on my shows.” She touched his face and smiled. “You know your daddy and I love you. But I worry. I’m allowed to worry.”
“Zoe and Justine like watching it.” Nate frowned.
“Lord is testing me.” She sighed. “Do you have to always be the bad influence?”
“Ready.” Zoe smiled interrupting the conversation.
“Ready!” Justine cheered.
“Alright. Love you, baby. Tell Nick I said hello. Dinner, we’ll do dinner soon.” Paige blew him a kiss before walking down the hall.
Nate shut the door and leaned his head against it.
“This fucking shit. I swear. Fine. I said fucking fine let’s address the melodramatic white boy that’s throwing a tantrum because he don’t get the respect he wants. Backstage attacks. Off the stage attacks. Thinks this shit the 90’s still where being an edgy fuckboy makes ya interesting. That’s why he keeps grabbing a mic and talking that good shit. Daring people to make a move, right?”
“This is how it’s going to be. I’ll be the last man standing here. I’m going to get rid of absolutely every one of you who walks into that ring. It doesn’t matter when you come in. Doesn’t matter what kind of crap you try to sell about yourself right now. I ain’t buying shit.”
“I might not be the baddest mother fucker here. I’m not stupid. I don’t have a god complex but let’s be real? No one’s scared of y’all.”
“Spike Kane might be trying to backpedal the last year where he’s been on the losing end of more fights then a drunk being tosses from the bar. That’s the narrative he’s selling right? Despite how poorly the last year was for him in the Wins and losses that he should be feared, right?”
“Nah.”
“Let’s be honest here for a moment? Despite the good shit everyone has been selling we all know how this is going to play. Don’t we?”
“All these old bastard come kicking in the door declaring manifest destiny and some shit. That anyone who ain't been pushed like they have are crap?”
“Fuck em.”
“That time past. You can gaslight the fans into believing your hype all you want but it don’t mean shit. You don’t mean shit. Being in more matches then me don’t make you better, bro. It means you got a friend in the booking department. That’s fine. We all know how Spike Kane gets on with the people who run this place. It’s cool, brah, you network your ass off.”
“Course in my old line of business when someone works that much assumptions of how you got that time on the stage were pretty assured. But its chill, you work that shaft. You try to go out on your last blaze of glory before your ass does something your old body can’t handle.”
“You want to know what all this old shit y'all sell reminds me off? Those old drag queens on the corner that think just they been on the scene for ages they somehow deserve to be bowed down to. Nah, your ass may have made some waves once but it’s time to sit your ass down. Retire. No one will miss you. Your old asses are doing nothing but choking this industry of any hopes of fresh air.”
“Heaven forbid hall of famers get their ass off the stage so the new talent can actually do something. Say this business has stagnated when we all know it’s because the company keeps pushing the old talent and feeding the new kids to y’all so you can feel strong. Fuck you and fuck that noise.”
“I’m gonna win this. I might not get a full on ego the size of Canada about it but I’m gonna win this. Fuck the old boys club and fuck the hype train. Trust.”
“You know Zoe’s old enough to take care of em both right?” Nate asked his mother as he watched his sisters grab their bags.
“I feel more comfortable having someone watch them.” Paige asserted. “Where’s Nick? I don’t want to stop by without saying hello.”
“Showering.” Nate motioned to the bathroom. “I’ll tell him you were here.”
“Mm. you two should come by for dinner, you know? Be nice to see you both.”
“Could take you all out for dinner.” Nate offered. “Dad can’t wrinkle his nose at where the money comes from now, can he?”
“Don’t.” she shook her head. “I don’t mind cooking.”
“Mom.”
“I’ve seen what that business does to people like you, baby.” Paige gave him a pained look. “I don’t know why you think your body is the only way to get ahead.”
“You make me sound like a hooker. It was sex work but I didn’t—“
“You could find a good job where you keep your clothes on. Accounting? You know you could work a desk without much trouble.”
“Mom, I’m good at it. Seriously, if you ever watched you’d know that.”
“For how long? How long before one of those angry white men damage you beyond walking it off?” She shook her head. “Girls, the car’s waiting, come on!”
“Mom, I can do this. Me and Nick, we got this in the bag.”
“I’m not going to watch my baby get beaten up. I’m certainly not paying more to watch it then I do to keep up to date on my shows.” She touched his face and smiled. “You know your daddy and I love you. But I worry. I’m allowed to worry.”
“Zoe and Justine like watching it.” Nate frowned.
“Lord is testing me.” She sighed. “Do you have to always be the bad influence?”
“Ready.” Zoe smiled interrupting the conversation.
“Ready!” Justine cheered.
“Alright. Love you, baby. Tell Nick I said hello. Dinner, we’ll do dinner soon.” Paige blew him a kiss before walking down the hall.
Nate shut the door and leaned his head against it.
“This fucking shit. I swear. Fine. I said fucking fine let’s address the melodramatic white boy that’s throwing a tantrum because he don’t get the respect he wants. Backstage attacks. Off the stage attacks. Thinks this shit the 90’s still where being an edgy fuckboy makes ya interesting. That’s why he keeps grabbing a mic and talking that good shit. Daring people to make a move, right?”
“This is how it’s going to be. I’ll be the last man standing here. I’m going to get rid of absolutely every one of you who walks into that ring. It doesn’t matter when you come in. Doesn’t matter what kind of crap you try to sell about yourself right now. I ain’t buying shit.”
“I might not be the baddest mother fucker here. I’m not stupid. I don’t have a god complex but let’s be real? No one’s scared of y’all.”
“Spike Kane might be trying to backpedal the last year where he’s been on the losing end of more fights then a drunk being tosses from the bar. That’s the narrative he’s selling right? Despite how poorly the last year was for him in the Wins and losses that he should be feared, right?”
“Nah.”
“Let’s be honest here for a moment? Despite the good shit everyone has been selling we all know how this is going to play. Don’t we?”
“All these old bastard come kicking in the door declaring manifest destiny and some shit. That anyone who ain't been pushed like they have are crap?”
“Fuck em.”
“That time past. You can gaslight the fans into believing your hype all you want but it don’t mean shit. You don’t mean shit. Being in more matches then me don’t make you better, bro. It means you got a friend in the booking department. That’s fine. We all know how Spike Kane gets on with the people who run this place. It’s cool, brah, you network your ass off.”
“Course in my old line of business when someone works that much assumptions of how you got that time on the stage were pretty assured. But its chill, you work that shaft. You try to go out on your last blaze of glory before your ass does something your old body can’t handle.”
“You want to know what all this old shit y'all sell reminds me off? Those old drag queens on the corner that think just they been on the scene for ages they somehow deserve to be bowed down to. Nah, your ass may have made some waves once but it’s time to sit your ass down. Retire. No one will miss you. Your old asses are doing nothing but choking this industry of any hopes of fresh air.”
“Heaven forbid hall of famers get their ass off the stage so the new talent can actually do something. Say this business has stagnated when we all know it’s because the company keeps pushing the old talent and feeding the new kids to y’all so you can feel strong. Fuck you and fuck that noise.”
“I’m gonna win this. I might not get a full on ego the size of Canada about it but I’m gonna win this. Fuck the old boys club and fuck the hype train. Trust.”
Well howdy there pardner.