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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #2107676
The Caledonia Series - Part 3 of 5
This writing is part of a series of pieces within a fictional online wrestling federation.


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“Mitchell, this isn’t a holiday you know!”

I looked blithely up from the book I was reading to see the rather fearsome sight of my pregnant girlfriend standing hands on hips and glowering over at me from the patio door that she had just emerged from. I raised an eyebrow as I slowly removed my sunglasses, peering over at Charlotte with a hokey puzzled expression on my face, attempting to raise a smile. Despite my best facial efforts, a slight quivering of the corners of her mouth was all I could manage before Charlotte was off again, on a one-woman rampage, stomping around the decking and treating the general area as if it had done it a great injustice. Smiling casually to myself, I poked my sunglasses back onto my face and settled back down into my deck chair, half listening to my girlfriend and the succession of grievances that she was now reeling off from across the patio.

“Right, so I suppose I’m going to have to tidy this place up, am I? Seeing as you seem to be content to just sit there wasting the hours away, treating the place like your own personal pigsty. Well, be that as it may, but don’t come crying to me when you lose another match because you decided to have a little vacation rather than actually bothering to prepare properly. Oh, and I don’t know about you…” I looked across over to where she now stood, brandishing a stray bottle of energy drink and waving it vigorously in my direction, “… but it’d be quite nice if we could come back here again, perhaps when we’ve both retired and we have got time to waste. But I’m not sure Scott is going to be quite so keen to let you stay if you leave it in this state when we leave!”

I looked around at the sunlit decking area, before peering through the glass patio door into the spacious living area beyond. In all honesty, the villa just off the Brisbane coastline, in which we were now relaxing and had been for the past few days now, looked tidier than our home back in Atlanta. The holiday home belonged to my brother, and upon finding out about CWF’s upcoming tour of The Land Down Under, I’d pulled a few strings and had managed to secure lodgings for the entire trip, should I need them. Suffice to say, without needing to worry about finding lodgings week after week during our trip Down Under, I was wiling away the time by kicking back and enjoying the Aussie autumn sunshine. Charlotte, it seems, had other plans though, as she fixed me with another irritated glare.

“Well…?” she asked. I wasn’t exactly sure what the question actually referred to… to be honest, I don’t think she did. Still, I was enjoying myself, and didn’t see any need to change that. I shook my head a little exasperatedly, turning to Charlotte as I did so,

“Charlotte, just chill. Relax.” I said calmly, “There’s nothing wrong with this is there? Change of scenery, something different, getting away from the hustle and bustle of the US. Yeah, OK, technically I’m at work. But it doesn’t feel like I’m work.”

“Hmph… wish I could say the same…” she shot back.

I chuckled at the jibe.

“Hahaha, seriously, are you like, pregnant or something?” I asked jokingly, “Your hormones are all over the place… Just relax.”

Cue a look of utter filth. Oops… a tactical error there? And it was one I might pay for, I thought, as Charlotte jumped to her feet, fire in her eyes. I withered slightly under her glare for just a second, before she sat back down, a strange expression on her face that, I’ll be honest, scared me just a little bit. She stared out at the Brisbane skyline, looking ever so slightly manic.

“Relax. No. No that’s fine” she said, her tone as short as a vertically challenged midget. “I can relax. That’s not a problem. I’m not the one with the problem… there’s no… not a problem.”

I giggled inwardly, peering at Charlotte out of the corner of my eye and watching her fidget in her chair, looking about as relaxed as Lindsey Lohan in a crack-den. I settled down in my chair once again, barely taking in the words on the page in front of me as I listened out for the next outburst from Charlotte. It didn’t take long to arrive.

“Right, so if you’re not planning on doing anything useful to prepare for this week’s Massacre, how exactly do you expect to beat the two top stars in CWF right now?”

I looked across at where she sat, smiling in spite of Charlotte’s sarcastic attitude, which was beginning to irritate me; I decided to counter with some sarcasm of my own…

“The two top guys? What about me? Nice to see the person you care most about has got all this faith in you eh…?”

Charlotte looked like she was having great difficulty in rolling her eyes; she managed it – just – before continuing on.

“I’m serious though.” she said curtly, “Jace and Highlander are the most experienced and talented guys in the fed right now, bar none. This is gonna be a challenge, Mitch, and maybe a pretty important one. It could shape the future for all of you main eventers. You need to be ready.”

I nodded, conceding that she was, once again, right on the money. “I can’t argue with that. But I’m not exactly a green-nosed rookie myself darlin’. This ain’t my first battle with either one of these guys. So whilst I agree that I can’t go into a Massacre match of this magnitude completely cold, I think my preparation is actually long-since done.

I mean, let’s just look at this from a historical perspective. Just how many times have me and Jace faced each other? Perhaps it was fate that brought us together all those months ago when CWF re-opened it’s doors and announced a fed-wide World Heavyweight Title tournament. Perhaps it was just sheer blind luck. Who knows. What I do know, though, is that at that time, we were the top two guys in the federation, bar none. Maybe we still are today…? There’s no doubt, we’ve seen Jace’s steady increase in arrogance and self-confidence at exactly the same time as his rise in notoriety and success. Belief. That’s the key. Jace started believing, and then he started winning. Unfortunately, you’ve gotta think that that belief is getting a little bit out of control – he actually thinks he’s unbeatable these days. Well I’ve shown once, in a big-time situation, that I have what it takes to beat Mr. Valentine. And I’ll happily show him, and everyone else, that I will do it again.

You see, things have changed between myself and Valentine. When we started out, the stakes were simple – winner takes it all. Two hungry vying for one invaluable prize. For one, disappointment was inevitable, but it would be how they reacted to that disappointment that would shape history. Now, obviously, Jace reacted in a certain way, and a simple case of competition turned into something more… something personal. Shots were fired, insults exchanged, and the battle intensified. Jace claimed what he believed was rightfully his and, for a time, the war was suspended. One victory apiece. Both sides, for now, content with the stalemate.

But come together we did, once more, and as close as the past week or so, the fans almost got to see Jace Valentine vs The Blue Scorpion, round three. Ding fucking ding. But no. The powers that be decide to spice things up a bit, add another body, another factor into the mix. And as much as either of us may have wanted it, we didn’t feel those same emotions, that same spark that had existed so prevalently between us in the past. Oh, I looked for it, trust me, I did. I went into that match wondering exactly how would I feel? How would Jace react to being in a competitive environment with, so far, the only man in the CWF who has been able to expose even a chink in his armour, a weakness in his façade, in my attempts to show him up for what he really is. I tried to feel what I’d felt before… but as I went into the contest at Confliction, I felt something else. Something different. Do you know what I felt, Charlotte?”

I paused for dramatic effect, and watched Charlotte shake her head slowly, becoming more and more engaged in the ramblings of an over-analytical wrestler. Smiling ever-so slightly to myself, I turned my head and gazed away at the dazzling sunshine reflecting off the glassy Australian surf, thinking back just a couple of weeks, to yet another PPV match involving Jace Valentine that hadn’t gone quite so well.

“We’d regressed.”

I turned back to face Charlotte, in time to see a quizzical look flash across her face. My smile widened, as I continued on…

“Oh yeah. It was gone. No longer was it personal, a private battle between two very different yet competitive individuals desperate to end one another. The bitterness, the anger, the frustration – all of it, melted away like snow under the sun. In fact, we’d gone backwards at such a rate, that there wasn’t even that feeling of wanting the prize, the gold any more, just so that you could say that you had the gold, and he didn’t. It was less than that… but sometimes, less is more…

Now? It’s just a simple game of one-upmanship. Trying to find out who can get the job done, and how many more times they can do it compared to their opponent. No special circumstances. No titles on the line. Yet it seems like, even though stakes have seemingly dropped, it’s all become more important. That one meaningless Massacre win could just be the catalyst for something even bigger between us. Maybe… maybe not… But I can’t take that risk. I need to beat Valentine, no matter how vital it may all seem in the grand scheme of things, To show him… and to show the world, that my single, solitary victory over him, albeit an important one, was not just a flash in the pan.”

“That’s all very well…” said Charlotte after a pause, “But I think there’s a danger you could get carried away with Valentine and the history that you two have together. Don’t forget that he’s got a partner in this clash, one who is more than capable of costing you another shot at what you want…-“

I interjected “What I need, babes, what I need…”

“Ohhhh whatever then!” she snapped back, the irritability returning in a flash. “What I’m getting at is, Dan Highlander needs to be taken seriously as well!”

“Oh I know.” I replied, “And y’know, it’s almost the same for him and me as it is for myself and Jace – we have history. Except the Highlander-Scorpio story isn’t quite as far along as the earlier tale involving messieurs Valentine and Scorpion. There’s been a bubbling tension building between us for… various reasons…”

“Oh…?” Charlotte asked with another questioning look.

Suddenly, I felt a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, disgusted at myself at having nearly given the game away so innocently, so unknowingly. So much had happened over the last month or so, that it was becoming hard to discern who knew what and, more importantly, who needed to know what. Whilst I’d been almost totally open and honest with Charlotte since the very start of our relationship (something that she couldn’t claim by any stretch of the imagination), my little fling with Caledonia, which I still hadn’t quite given up hope of rekindling, was something that I felt Charlotte didn’t need to know, for her own wellbeing. That’s what I told myself, at least…

Back to reality though…

“Oh yeah, it’s nothing to worry about” I said quickly, trying to skate over the subject nonchalantly. “But certainly, Scorp vs Highlander has all the makings of a classic confrontation… if it ever happens, that is. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there always seems to be something that comes between us…”

“So you and Dan have got a reason to beat the shit out of each other” Charlotte said, in a tone scarily devoid of emotion, “Great. But don’t forget, you’ve not got to do this on your own. You’ve got someone on the same page as you, fighting for a common goal.”

“Ah yes…” I said pensively, “Angel. Probably the only intangible in this main event. Looking at it from the outsider’s point of view, you know what you’re gonna get with the three fellas. Lots of posturing, lots of alpha-male shit, each one of us trying to prove that we are top dog. But Angel…well… you never ever know what you’re gonna get from Angel, even at the best of times. But I still maintain that something isn’t quite right with Angel. In fact, I don’t think she’s been the same since CWF re-opened. The Hardcore Bitch of old is in hiding somewhere, hopefully just ready to be unleashed on tools like Ataxia and Valentine. Until that happens… until someone truly gets to the bottom of that enigma that is Amber Jane Ryan… she’s capable of doing anything, to anyone, at any time…”

“But you still think you can get the best out of her on Tuesday night? You still think you can win?” Charlotte asked.

I turned and looked her dead in the eye, the glint in my own eye clearly visible judging by the vaguely amused look on Charlotte’s face.

“I know I can win” I said in a low growl of a voice, “I know I can win on Tuesday night, and the night after that, and any damn night that I need to. Sometimes though…” I added as an afterthought, unable the resist to have another dig, another little barb in Charlotte’s direction, “Sometimes, it seems like I’m the only one who does believe...”

I sat back in my chair, arms raised high above my head, pleased with the way I’d handled myself, and confident I’d be able to handle myself properly again when the time next arose. But at the same time, there was still a niggly feeling that something was wrong. I couldn’t help but notice the space between us, sat here now, supposedly at ease with each other and the world. But I realised the space was rapidly becoming more than just a physical space, it was starting to become literal, metaphorical, whatever you wanted to say. But whatever you called it, it was starting to rear it’s ugly head.

Charlotte’s reaction to me daring to relax and enjoy myself in a new and exciting place, the little snaps and sarcastic comments that were being shared between us. Little things, niggly things; barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things, yet entirely unnecessary. Sometimes, when I was with her, I felt as if I was being suffocated – the atmosphere was almost tangibly oppressive when we were together, as we struggled for supremacy, almost like we were two competitors vying for the top spot on the leaderboard. But this was not about scoring points or leaderboards – this wasn’t a game. This was the lives of two people who had grown close in a very short space of time, and who could conceivably grow apart in an equally short space of time, if things carried on the way they were going… deep down, I wasn’t prepared to let that happen, for the sake of a third life, that hadn’t yet been introduced to this crazy world. I knew I wanted, I just didn’t know how to go about getting it…

And then there was all this history that kept being dragged up. People unknowingly airing my dirty laundry, and opening up a whole new world of opportunities to me in the process. Sometimes, I’d think back to that night in the alleyway, to the fleeting moment where I truly felt Caledonia. I’d look down at her number saved in my cell, and it’d all seem so easy… in my head… But as competitive sport isn’t played on paper, life isn’t lived in your head. I had plenty of life to live in the next few weeks, but I wasn’t the only one living it.

Ah well, at least I could kick back and enjoy the last few hours before I’d have to start building up for another big match. At least I could bask in the reflective glory of an argument well won, and chill out under the gaze of the…… whoops! Seems like I got a bit carried away there! I forgot – not on holiday. Remember?

“So” Charlotte said, jumping up and clapping her hands together, “What are we going to do?”

I opened my mouth to retort angrily, but caught sight of Charlotte’s look, which was full of danger. For a split second, I thought about snapping back, thought about fighting my corner and actually being selfish for once in this one-sided relationship. But as I felt the control and the power being drained from me, it was replaced by an all new feeling, one much more intoxicating than getting your own way in a relationship.

The urge to do something reckless.

I closed my mouth slowly, my face almost complete expressionless. Yet behind this blank façade, I was becoming increasingly intrigued with this all new feeling, which was making itself heard inside my body in a big way. So much so that it was physically demanding to actually control myself, to compose my face into something of a pleasant expression, and let Charlotte hear what she wanted to hear.

“Whatever you want, my darling. But we can’t sit around here all day can we?”

Charlotte beamed, and I grinned back at her, whilst fighting the urge to do something ridiculous, like scream out exactly what I wanted to do with a certain Ms Summers, or tell her what she could do with whatever fucking activities that she inevitably had planned.

In the end, I did neither, but instead did something even more reckless – namely, deciding to give in to temptation, and willingly allow that dirty laundry to get out into the open…

I clambered up from my seated position on the deck, and made to follow Charlotte back through the patio doors, all the while slipping my cell phone covertly out of my pocket. I pressed a couple of buttons, and suddenly, there it was. A simple name which inspired so many feelings within me, and screamed so many things inside my brain:

CALEDONIA

History. It stank of it. A history that was haunting and exciting in equal measure. And, because of this one rush of something, something inside me, it was history that was about to be revisted…
© Copyright 2017 Mitch Hall (mitchell11 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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