I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
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May 31, 2018
Lucy Wylde was JC's best friend. And he was hers. By all accounts, they shouldn't have even been friends.May 31, 2018
JC arrived in OWF, making his grand return and immediately Lucy Wylde was in his crosshairs. She was part of a group called the Violent Society and since JC ruined their big moment, she didn't like him too much. The feeling was mutual. Then once JC started showing results in his mental health care and noticed that she too was trying to make up for past mistakes, he saw a kindred spirit.
They were both damaged and damaged people tend to flock together. That was just the way the world worked. So they leaned on each other for support, they trained together and they had each other's back. It happened quickly and unexpectedly, but suddenly JC had a best friend. Someone who understood him and his insecurities. Someone who supported him unconditionally but would tell him if he was being an asshole.
She told him as much back in March when she knocked him down with a punch to the face. He deserved it, of course, as he blamed her for something that he started to begin with. He called her toxic, among other things, and almost shoved another person out of his life after his wife left. Stacy was still gone, and his mental state wasn't any better. In an effort to find the right medication, he had switched what he was on twice and with that came a myriad of side effects and concerns. Just before Lucy's girlfriend Maggie called him, he was in a deep depression.
Lucy had been missing for a little over a week. A vile man named Gabriel Baal (who would no doubt get what was coming to him, JC would make sure of that) kidnapped her and hand-delivered her to her depraved father Gary Johnson like she was a piece of meat. He didn’t know much about Gary but the man made his skin crawl with a bubbling, white hot feeling of fury.
When Joe saw the state his best friend was in now, that rage only grew. He felt no satisfaction at seeing the the corpse of her father lying nearby, as that meant he wasn’t the one to end his life. In a fit of impotent anger, he plunged the toe of his boot into the dead man's bloated rib cage as he walked to Lucy. He heard a small crunch and ignored it.
Lucy was in bad shape. He’d seen her in poor condition before, of course, as that was the nature of their profession. But it wasn’t the same as it was right now. She took the blows from the thing that was her father unchecked and without mercy. Joe briefly thought of his own dark passenger, and wondered how long Gary Johnson’s had been in control.
“Oh god, Lucy!”
Maggie cried out immediately as she saw her and ran to her side, kneeling on the floor and tending to her. A cursory glance showed that, for lack of a better description, her face was fucked. The left eye was swollen to the point of being closed entirely, a deep purple hue standing out on her normally pale skin. On the other side of the face was more swelling and more of the same purple paint job, likely due to a broken cheekbone.
Then there was the blood.
Lucy was absolutely covered in it, although not all of it was hers. She was close enough to Gary that whatever pooled out from his fatal wounds had managed to soak her when she passed out in it. However, some of the blood was definitely hers, because it was dried, black and crusty. It had been caked in her hair for some time and was peeling off in places in others. Clearly no one had bothered to even make it seem like she was being taken care of. Joe wondered how far Gary was intending to go, but he already knew the answer to that question.
Lucy even had blood in her mouth, which she coughed out as she slipped in and out of consciousness. That was likely a sign of internal injuries, maybe even broken ribs. Maggie absentmindedly rubbed her back in the hope of bringing some minor, fleeting comfort.
“Luce? Luce!”
He called to her, hoping there was some semblance of his friend that hadn’t been beaten away. Her right eye flickered open, she took a passive look around and it closed again. She had to be treated right away. Joe glanced down at her phone, which she had a death grip on. She called them first, over the police, over medical care, everything. It’s like she knew that they would be looking for her. She knew they would be here to save her.
“Someone get an ambulance!”
Maggie called out again, but there were only two “someones” in her vicinity. There was JC, who was completely aware of the seriousness of the situation. There was also a woman in the corner, sobbing, rocking and staring off into nothingness. Joe guessed she wouldn’t be aware of anything ever again. He also guessed that she was Lucy’s mother and felt a mixture of pity and disgust for her.
“Fuck this.”
He barreled towards his friend and carelessly shoved Maggie out of the way. She was a wrestler, she could handle being tossed aside.
“JC!”
“I’m not waiting for an ambulance.”
He carefully placed his left arm around the back of Lucy and his right arm under her legs. She normally only weighed about 120 pounds normally, but he guessed that number was considerably less now. It was apparent she hadn’t eaten in days, likely as another means of torture. Why one human being would do this to another, let alone their own offspring, defied comprehension.
JC knelt down and cradled her in his arms, before effortlessly picking her back up. She was far more lifeless than he thought and he had the thought he might lose her if they didn’t leave soon. A sharp pang echoed through his chest and he immediately turned around. His eyes caught the empty orbs inhabiting the head of Lucy’s mother. At first, he thought about leaving her here. Let her rot with the corpse of her husband. Let them burn in hell together, if they believed in that sort of thing. There had to be a special place somewhere for someone like Gary Johnson. Death was too good for him.
When he put it together that Lucy’s mother ended up saving her, he decided not to let her die here after all.
“Maggie, you should...call the police.”
Lockheart shook her head at first, her hands curling up into fists.
“If you think I’m staying..”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying the police need to be called. Call it in anonymously. We can’t leave her here.”
He nodded over to the broken woman in the corner to make his point.
“Okay, fine. Fine.”
Maggie pulled out her phone and began to dial 911. Joe simply looked down at his friend and immediately felt nothing but guilt. He pushed her away. He didn’t allow himself to put the fear of God (or perhaps worse, the fear of JC) into Gary. He wasn’t there when Baal attacked to kick his incisors into his nasal cavity. JC may not have been the one beating her, but he had played his part.
He would have nightmares that night, and multiple times over the nights to come. His sleep would be restless, and it would all be thanks to guilt.
For now, at least she was safe in his arms. Let Gary get up and try to hurt her now. Let Baal show his smug face in this room. He’d kill them both and feel justified.
As he looked down, he noticed she was stirring. Her right eye pushed itself open halfway, which was likely difficult due to the swelling in her cheek. It darted around nervously, as she seemed to be aware of her surroundings, at least for the moment. Finally, it rested on the face of her friend, the man who had called her toxic just two months prior. Someone that would regret saying that for as long as he knew her.
She tried to talk, the words coming out as more of a choked gasp than anything else. Her tone was inquisitive, as if she had trouble believing he was actually there.
“Joe…?”
When Maggie heard Lucy’s voice she abruptly ended her call to the police and rushed over. She stared down at her girlfriend and took her limp hand in hers, caressing it and offering whatever support she could.
“Hold on Luce… We’ve got you now.”
Lucy wrapped her other arm around the neck of JC and buried her face in his chest, as she began to sob. He held her like that for a moment, before taking her out of her hell forever.
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A catch in my throat, choke
Torn into pieces
I won't—No!
I don't wanna be this
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June 2, 2018
Lucy Wylde was JC's best friend. And he was hers. It had been this way for about a year and he expected it would be that way for the remainder of his life. JC hadn't given much thought to anything else until Maggie Lockheart opened the floodgates in his mind.
You can say what you want, but the eyes tell the whole story. You love her, don’t you?
A woman he barely knew, one he had a handful of conversations (at best) with, made something click in his mind and suddenly he knew. Of course he loved her. More than that, he was in love with her. He hadn’t thought about it because it never seemed feasible. He was married, she was in a committed relationship and why would either of them feel that way about each other? She certainly didn’t, he was sure of that.
But after that talk with Maggie, it was all he could think about. That, and reconciliation.
He had a lot to apologize for, he knew that. He said she harsh things to his best friend that he couldn’t take back, but he hoped that she would forgive him. Maybe after all this, they could forget what happened before and go back to the way things used to be.
One thing was for sure, he was never going to tell her how he felt. Even if the conversation with Maggie made him realize his feelings and even if this entire ordeal made him realize what he almost lost, Lucy could never know. The truth was he still loved his wife. He still loved his daughter. He had a family. She had a girlfriend. What he felt ultimately didn’t matter, because nothing could come of it. Telling her would just widen the rift.
So he’d keep that to himself until he died. He’d do his best to forget. After a while it would get easier, and he’d look back on this epiphany with a quiet fondness and nothing else.
He was currently sitting in the waiting room at a Baltimore hospital, he couldn’t remember which. Lucy was still in and out of consciousness, mostly because she was on a lot of drugs. Due to her cheekbone being fractured, she was taken into surgery to repair it, which left her in a lot of pain. That meant the drugs, which meant Joe would sit and wait until she came around to talk.
In the middle of his waiting, he took up a hobby. It was something he had been meaning to get to, but never had the time. Most wouldn’t consider online brain teasers and puzzles the most worthwhile of hobbies, but it helped passed the time while he waited. He was currently looking at a list of simple ones and felt insulted by the fact they were even labeled brain teasers.
A plane crashes on the border of US and Canada. Where are the survivors buried?
“You don’t bury survivors.”
What appears once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?
“The letter ‘m’.”
Mary's father has five daughters: 1. Nana, 2. Nene, 3. Nini, 4. Nono. What is the name of the fifth daughter?
“Mary. These are too simple.”
“J...Joe? Is that you?”
He glanced up from his newfound hobby (that he felt certain he’d ditch within a week or two) to see a groggy Lucy Wylde staring back at him. Her face was a mixture of purple, yellow and alabaster, with heavy bandages covering the minimally-invasive surgical wound on her still-swollen face. At the very least, both of her eyes were looking on him. He thought about his conversation with Maggie and felt a brief fluttering in his chest before he shoved it aside.
Never. Tell. Her.
“Yeah, I’m here. It’s my shift.”
“Huh?”
“Maggie and I are taking turns watching you. She stepped out to do...whatever it is she does.”
He switched off his phone and scooted his chair closer. At the very least, her hair was no longer soaked in blood. It was the same platinum blonde color it always was, although not nearly as neatly-prepared as she probably liked it. They were nurses after all, not stylists.
“I probably look like shit.”
“You look like someone who went through hell.”
She gave a dry, humorless laugh.
“Thanks for the compliment Joe. Can I get some water?”
He placed his phone in his pocket and moved to the bedside table, which had been rolled against the wall as Lucy slept. He grabbed a cheap Styrofoam cup, which had recently been filled with ice water, and stuck the straw inside that the nurse provided. Lucy, still groggy and weak, had to accept the minuscule gift with both hands.
“Thanks.”
She greedily drank from the cup, coughed a moment, then set the drink down.
“How long have I been out?”
“A while. Do you remember going back for surgery?”
“For..what?”
“They had to fix your cheekbone.”
“Fuck. I’m going to have to wear a mask at Massive Melee.”
Joe raised his eyebrows with concern.
“You’re still doing that?”
She sighed and shook her head, her eyes sad as she turned and looked out the window.
“I don't know. I-"
She stopped for a moment and Joe could see her eyes welling up with tears.
“I can't just let this go, can I?”
He looked at her for a moment and even with her face beat to hell and her body on the verge of collapsing again, she seemed as determined as ever. At that moment he realized that Gabriel Baal was in a world of trouble for his part in her current condition.
“No, I don’t suppose you can. I’d offer to help but I know you’d turn me down.”
“You'd be surprised.”
She said, turning her gaze back at him, motioning at her face and the rest of her injuries.
“I don’t think I'm in much position to be denying help at this point.”
“You say the word and I’ll beat Baal into retirement. Maybe worse. He needs to pay for what he’s done. I haven’t curb stomped anyone in a while. Might be fun.”
She smiled softly, wincing a bit as she laid her head back on her pillow.
“He’ll get his. But maybe we can focus on something else for a little while.”
For a moment, he had no idea if she meant something specifically or not. Did Maggie tell her what she told him? Does she know? He felt instantly anxious but that passed when she didn’t elaborate. He cleared his throat and changed the subject.
“So...we should probably talk about...you know. What happened between us a couple of months ago.”
“I'm… I'm sorry I hit you.”
She replied, a look of deep remorse in her eyes.
“You’re sorry? I deserved it. I said some pretty harsh things. I pushed you away. In fact…”
He lowered his head a little, feeling shame and guilt. This wasn’t the first time he felt it since finding about about Lucy and it wouldn’t be the last.
“I probably pushed you right into this situation.”
She shook her head.
“No.. God no. I kept thinking that I should have let you do what you wanted to do that night… But I didn’t want you to do something you'd regret. You have so much to be around for and I didn't want to be the reason it all got taken.”
He continued to look down, as admitting these things continued to prolong his disgust with himself. If he wanted to truly reconcile with her, she needed to know exactly where he stood. He had to be open and honest, as communication was key in any…
relationship
...friendship. She knew he was bipolar and had psychotic tendencies, so what he said next was something he hoped wouldn’t shock her.
“I wouldn’t have regretted it. I wanted to kill him. When I saw his...when I saw him the other day. I was angry I didn’t get to do it myself.”
“I know. Hey..”
She said softly, leaning forward in the bed. Joe glanced up at her as she extended her hand to him.
“As much as I know Stacy and Lizzy need you around.. I need you around too. I'm not worth pissing your life away, Joe. Trust me on that.”
He took her hand into his and gave a genuine, warm smile. He then let go as thoughts roamed in his head...
That’s right. You have a wife. You have a daughter.
He ran a hand through his hair and stood up quickly, as if he’d been shocked with a cattle prod.
“You probably want to see Maggie, right? Or to get some more rest.”
She looked at him, confused.
“What's wrong Joe? Are you okay?”
“Yeah...yeah. I’m fine. I just...needed to stretch my legs.”
An obvious lie but hopefully one that she wouldn’t notice in her groggy state.
“I’m glad we could talk things through. I really am sorry for hurting you.”
“Yeah, I'm glad too. Thank you for…. Well, you know. I had a lot to think about while..”
Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath as if she were trying to keep her composure.
“I thought I was a goner and all I could think about was how I'd never get to see you or Maggie again. Wait, you're not going to leave are you? Don't leave… please?”
The funny thing about realizing you love someone is that there is a feeling of electricity when you share a room or conversation with them. Joe currently felt that, and it was eating at him. Lucy didn’t help by staring at home, pleading that he just stay with her. It felt like a knife twisting. He was a gamut of emotions and feelings and didn’t know how to handle it.
He sat back down in the the chair and gave a friendly pat on her hand, still outstretched.
“I’m here as long as you need me.”
They didn’t talk any more after that and Lucy slowly went back to sleep. Part of him hated Maggie. Of course she didn’t know she was right. She just guessed. But because she brought it up and made him realize what he felt, he was going to have to deal with this for a long time to come.
But she could never be told. He was too damaged. He doubted that, even in another life where they had no commitments, she’d ever accept him as he was. Some people are just too broken.
Lucy Wylde was JC's best friend. And he was hers.
That was enough.
That would have to be enough.
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But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
She isn't real
I can't make her real
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So the big question on everyone's minds these days is, "What's going to happen at Wrestlestock?"
Yeah, if you thought I was going to make that about me, you're wrong. I'm skilled, but I'm not conceited. However, if you are, for some reason, wondering why I'm back in UGWC, I'll sum it up for you real quick. I wanted to compete, they have a show to compete on. Granted, Holden Orson isn't exactly who I had in mind. I really wanted to kick a French stereotype in the face so hard she goes "oui oui oui" back to obscurity, but I'll take what I can get.
It could be worse, I suppose. I could have to listen to the prattle of whoever the fuck these "cool kids" are. I could have to be in the same room with Jet Somers again. At least this way I can have a nice little bit of competition in a match before flying off to Baltimore on chartered jet to compete twice in the same night. Yes, I love this business so much I'll willingly double book myself and put my body through hell. It's an addiction.
Here's what I know about Holden Orson. I know he's a former member of the Engine of Chaos. I believe that they were around when I had my cup of coffee here as a full-time wrestler. That was before the concussion and my contractual obligations to Carnage Wrestling interfered. I also know that he's pretty much done it all here in UGWC. Certainly more than I have, although in my defense I can count my number of UGWC matches without needing to use my toes.
While I may not be a big hit in these waters, I'm a veteran who's been a big deal everywhere else. And I know enough about my own skills to know that I can beat you in this match, Holden. I also know something else that makes me overqualified for this.
A stretcher match, something that requires us to beat the hell out of each other until we can force each other on a stretcher and over some arbitrary line. It's a ridiculous stipulation but it does provide me with an opportunity to hurt you.
That's kind of the point isn't it? I'm not there to pin you, I'm there to hurt you so I can put you on a stretcher. There's no way you're getting out of this without getting beat up. It sounds like someone in management doesn't like you very much. Think about it. You're what, 230? Something like that? That's nothing compared to a guy of my size and power. I can toss you around until I get bored. And I might too, because I haven't been booked in a while and I'm itching for a fight. I didn't put "FIGHT ME" on my Twitter bio to be cute.
That's something no one's ever got about me, Holden. I'm always ready for a fight. I'm always looking to throw hands with someone. So here I am ready to fight you, hop on a flight then go fight two other people. And I'm going to love every minute of it.
You come into this business for a few select reasons. Mine is the spirit of competition and my love of wanton violence. Yours? I have no idea. I assume it's to wallow in mediocrity now that your best days are behind you.
I came to Chill because I wanted to. I have a feeling you're here because you've got nowhere else to go. You slummed it against the welcome mat Phrixus Deimos last time and while you won, it wasn't exactly easy for you. It should have been, the guy has the ability of a log and probably cosplays as Freddy Krueger in his spare time.
Maybe it's your love of irony that keeps you coming back for more in spite of not being relevant. I don't know how hipsters think. You won't be thinking much after this episode of Chill. Because I'm going to beat you senseless, kick you in the face as hard as I can and wheel you to a nice, comfortable notch in the L column.
Take notice, UGWC. This may be my first Chill but it won't be my last, and it's the start of better things to come when it comes to my time here. Holden Orson will be the first, but there will be others.
The Answer is back to solve all your problems.
