― Albert Einstein
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything felt like a prelude.
JC and Lucy Wylde were in the back of a taxi in Toledo, on their way to something that they would hopefully both enjoy, but something felt off to him. Something felt off about her, and it wasn't the fact that she was fighting her own sister in Carnage.
He couldn't place what it was and he knew that at some point by the end of the night he would have to ask.
She's had enough with you.
He closed his eyes briefly and tried to will the voice away. To try and explain why he simply didn't take his medication really would make him sound like a crazy person. He hated the obvious hallucination, he hated the negative emotions, but he also enjoyed the drive. He needed that edge to succeed and judging from what he was doing lately, he was right to believe so.
In just a week's time, he had PJ Blake. He couldn't just stop when young, hungry talent was breathing down his neck. But no one would understand that. He would simply have to endure.
"So, you might actually have fun tonight."
"I might."
"Are you okay? I mean, besides the obvious."
She didn't answer him, which he supposed was answer in itself.
The airplane incident must have really bugged her.
He once again demanded the voice be silent, but he mostly tried to ignore it. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Listen, I know you're worried about Sunday..."
"I had been thinking of something else."
"Well fuck Luce, you've been kind of weird today so I don't know what to say."
"It's...it's fine. I'm sorry."
The cab pulled over right outside the Huntington Center, where a sign told them exactly what they were there to see. Ghost - The Ultimate Tour Named Death.
"Weird. I'm in Toledo, of all places, to see a band that you like."
"I could have went alone. I brought you because I wanted to share it."
"Lucky me."
She actually gave him a small smirk, perhaps letting him know that she was teasing, then elbowed him in the ribs. But still, he felt something was off.
They slipped out of the cab and quickly moved up past the throngs of people already waiting to get inside. Anyone could see them. Or record them, he supposed. JC bypassed all that by using whatever slim celebrity he managed to have to get at least preferential treatment in the form of getting inside before anyone else. The seats they had weren't bad either. He assumed she wouldn't care all that much. After all, this was her first time seeing them, or really caring. She was here more for the distraction, or possibly to humor him. He wasn't sure which.
The security measures were taken, as were the tickets, and inside they went. As they walked toward the main arena floor, he tried once again to get an answer from her.
"So..."
"So what?"
"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
"You know what's bothering me."
"I know of one thing that's bothering you. I also know something else is."
They were getting nowhere, which he thought was probably her intent.
"You don't know as much as you think you do."
"This giving me the runaround really isn't attractive, Luce."
She stopped mid-stride and just looked at him. She gave him a look that almost suggested she was trying to figure something out. Like he had some secret locked inside and that if she stared long enough into his eyes, she could unlock it and find out what it was. Or maybe she already knew and was seeking confirmation.
She knows.
Knows what?
You haven't been taking your meds. She knows.
That was ridiculous.
But was it?
She shook her head, as if to answer his question without him asking it.
"I said I'm fine. Just Sunday. I'm going to go get a drink. Just...I don't know where our seats are, so wait here, okay?"
"Fine."
Lucy was confusing him. This was a problem with his ex-wife, too. With Lucy he always assumed he was always going to know where he stood. They never really had an issue. Of course, that was before. Before his hectic schedule. Before he started his issues in Carnage. Before...
Before me.
Yes, before that.
The utter weight of having any kind of mental illness was something he didn't wish on anyone. It actually felt like a weight. At the same time it made him feel restless. He just wanted each day to pass as quickly as possible so he could sleep, because sleep was the one time he felt safe. When he woke up, the weight returned and he felt so exhausted from carrying it. And he knew, that at any time if he just did the right thing, did what he was supposed to..
Be a good boy?
And listen to his damn doctor, he'd be fine. But look at what listening to his doctor got him, and look at what listening to his instincts got him.
He could never explain that to Lucy, and yet he had the feeling that he would soon have to.
She came back about ten minutes later, sporting her drink. To his total lack of shock, it was alcoholic. He supposed he would comment, but figured she earned it.
"Don't say anything."
"Wasn't going to."
"I mean about anything. No more questions about how I'm feeling. If this is meant to be a distraction, let it be a distraction."
"Makes sense, except..."
"Except..."
"You're still acting fucking weird."
"Want me to leave?"
Part of him kind of did, even though he was doing this for her. At least if she left, they could have their fight later, preferably much later. He felt it was going to happen. Maybe it was as close to a premonition as a human being could get. But he felt it. Instead, he relented.
"No. I'm sorry. Let's...let's just enjoy the show. Like we planned."
She looked at him again. Trying to figure him out. Then she took a sip from her drink and shrugged.
"Alright. Works for me. I'm sorry too. For being a bitch."
"You're not...just...maybe I was reading you wrong."
You're not. Something's up.
He agreed. But now was not the time.
"Alright, we're both sorry. Let's go see why this band is so great or whatever."
He put an arm around her and they headed inside the main arena to their seats.
Something was still off, and it wasn't long before he would find out what that was.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Any other time, someone else might get complacent. And perhaps I should. I'm doing well while other favorites in this tournament are falling by the wayside. But now is not the time for that. Eight points or not, there's still people breathing down my neck. I can't afford a loss.
Which brings me to PJ Blake.
Someone who has to call herself an Icon and has to tell everyone else that she's an Icon because otherwise, who else could possibly think that? Newsflash, PJ. You're not an Icon. Fuck, you're not even the first Icon I've faced in my career. Go ahead, guess what happened to that one when he crossed paths with me. Go ahead, I'll wait.
PJ Blake stands no chance of winning this tournament. To do this, she would have to win her next four matches, including against me, and even then I'd have to lose another match just to have our scores tied, and have her beat me via tiebreaker. The math isn't that difficult, and PJ, I'm about to close you out of this thing for good.
Let's get that straight. Once I put you down, your chances of winning go from minuscule to impossible. You realize that, don't you? Every match for you now is must-win, but none more so than this one. Because I'm the Omega leader. Omega block is mine. The only way you win at all is to defeat me.
Some might say with those odds, you might be my most dangerous opponent yet. I say it makes me your most dangerous opponent. Because beating you takes me to ten points, then I just have to keep people from playing spoiler. Jay Mora's already eliminated. Ariel Shadows is in the same position as you. The only threat, really, is Kyuseishu, and he won't be a threat when I'm done with him.
But don't think of this as me looking past you. I'm not. If anything, I'm relieved to be facing you. It's nice to finally have an opponent that appears to be sane and rational. I've spent the past month and a half dealing with lunatics. It's a nice change of pace to go from stomping their heads in to beating someone in competition.
But if you're only as good as your last match, then you've already lost. Because if you can't beat Silas Artoria, then you can't handle me.
These are facts.
I have yet to be pinned in this tournament but I will not get complacent. You will not be the first, PJ Blake. Every time I go out there, I show why I am the leader of this block and why I will get that title match. Block favorites like Artoria and Ataxia fell. Upstarts like Starlight and Autumn Raven were dispatched with ease.
You're just the latest.
The truth is, I actually admire you a little. You clearly have a passion for this and it shows. Any other year, any other opponent, maybe it'd go your way. But I need this more. As I said at the start, I don't know how many more matches I've got left in me. I can still do it, but for how long? I need this tournament win and this world title a hell of a lot more than you do.
After all, I think your bubbly personality will be able to shrug off one more loss. Take your perky attitude and these lessons you plan to teach and shove them up your ass.
I'm going to teach you something you can only learn from me. How to have your face kicked in with enough force to send you flying across the ring.
Enjoy the nap as you exit the tournament.
