Tofu stir fry.
It was so easy to make that even Cid Turner himself could have done it, but then what use would his student/friend/replacement child/driver/shaman healer/personal chef Clyde Warner be?
Cut up some tofu, chuck it in a pan with some oils, add a few veggies, and serve it with some quinoa, just one of many things Cid had never even heard of. Ginger? Green onions? Weren’t those supposed to be white? Sesame oil. Sesame seeds, which he assumed were expertly picked off of fresh burger buns. This dish and most of its ingredients were foreign to him.
But this was a time not just for tofu stir fry, but for change. Deciding to come back to SCW in the first place was a big step in a different direction, but things had only continued to evolve from there. The ‘C’ in an A/C Unit, Penguin slayer, Tag League winner, deity defier, World and Tag Champion, student of life, defender of titles, and now…veganism.
“It smells like…nothing,” Cid noted, looking down at the day’s lunch, which doubled as his breakfast. “Kinda herby, I guess.”
His French girlfriend Bez unsurprisingly said something in French beside him, eating her own serving of the meal. She seemed to be enjoying it and encouraging him to do the same.
This had been a long time coming. Ever since coming back from the break following Rise to Greatness, Cid had put on a decent amount of weight thanks to a combination of doughnuts and depression. It was only after running into an old friend in Sid Kipling that he saw the effects of veganism in the face of his old friend, who didn’t look that much different than he did fifteen years prior, attributing his veganism to the fountain of youth.
Cid had to be better. Not only was he fighting his ass off to defend his half of the World Championship in the name of Asher Hayes and Holly Adams, but he also had a daughter to worry about now. Seven years she’d been walking the planet, a growing child that he unknowingly shared with his ex-wife Elizabeth. Their relationship was obviously estranged, but he felt a new purpose in life after meeting her. He wanted to be there for her…and for Elizabeth.
Plus his new French girlfriend. Also his Russian mail-order bride, Elizaveta, who seemed to resent Bez’s presence, but Cid wasn’t worried about that right now.
What he was worried about now was eating this staple of a healthy vegan diet before going out to answer some questions and sign some autographs.
Taking a bite of the culinary delight and realizing that it very much tasted like it smelled, he pondered to himself about the situation he’d found himself in.
As World Champion of a major wrestling promotion – or rather, the major wrestling promotion – he was expected to represent the company not just inside the ring, but out of it. He knew better than anyone that he didn’t have a face that could sell any products besides maybe Rogaine, which explained why he didn’t get a ton of calls for things like sponsorships or talk shows, but as World Champion, he still had a duty.
Today, duty called.
A Q&A followed by an autograph signing. While not the ideal place for an anti-social being to be, Cid felt that this was an important thing not only for the company, but for himself. Ever since Holly took him and Asher under her beautiful wing, it seemed that some things were being misunderstood in regards to the A/C Blondetourage Unit (or, alternatively, the A/B/C Unit [or, also alternatively, the A/C/B Unit]). All of it led to mixed messages coming from the crowd, so without Asher and Holly there with him, this was a great time for Cid to speak for himself to clear a few things up.
“Ohh, Cidnay!” came the shrill call of Holly Adams, resonating from the doorway and right into Cid’s ears, quickly worming its way through his entire being with a chill that rattled his bones. Cid looked up from his meal to see Holly, Asher, a Walmart brand Amazonian-looking woman, and the Housewives camera crew all rolling into the room. “Hey, girl, hey!”
“Holly,” Cid meekly greeted her through slightly laboured chews. “Asher? Why are you guys here?”
Asher cleared his throat and stood in front of Holly, his personal version of the SCW World Championship shining on his shoulder. “Well, they advertised a meet ‘n’ greet with the champ,” Asher began as he looked around the green room, “but my invitation must’ve gotten lost in the mail. Thankfully, Holly’s such a good life coach that she got word of the event and made sure that we were here.”
Holly let out a humble sigh and smiled. “Yes, well—”
Suddenly, the tall woman behind Holly almost barrels her over to rumble her way towards Cid, who’s still sitting on the couch next to Bez with his vegan bowl on his lap. “So, this is the famous Cidnay Turner!” she roared, pretty much screaming despite being not even a foot away from him. Her voice sounded like it’d been run through a field of sandpaper. The cameras surrounded her before she turned to them and struck a pose with her hand on her hip. “My name is Crysta-Elizabeth J. Du-Chatalay. Some may call me large sized, uncivilized and government subsidized, but when it comes to men, I’m fantasized.”
She continued to pose for the camera as everyone else just looked at each other awkwardly. Amongst the silence, Cid cleared his throat. “Um…okay,” he mumbled. “Nice to meet you, Crysta.”
Stifling her fury at him not getting her name right, Crysta-Elizabeth turned to him and forced a smile. “That’s Crysta-Elizabeth, dear,” she corrected him. “Respect the hyphen. Putting that aside, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’ve been waiting—”
Crysta-Elizabeth was interrupted by a venue worker popping his head in. “You’re on in five, Mr. Turner,” the man said before disappearing just as quickly as he appeared.
“Duty calls,” Asher said with a roll of the shoulders, walking out of the door while doing some vocal warm-ups.
Cid looked over at his French girlfriend, who apparently didn’t speak English, just like his mail-order wife. “Okay, Bez, I—” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips before swallowing her mouthful of food. “Right. Thank you. Listen, you stay back here, I’ll be back soon.” Cid took a final bite of his food and set it aside before making his way out of the room, dodging some cameras along the way. “Nice to meet you, Crysta-Elizabeth.”
Crysta-Elizabeth remained speechless, looking at Bez with pure disgust as Cid walked out of the room. After hearing the cameras shuffle, Crysta-Elizabeth snapped out of her quiet rage and grabbed at Holly before she could exit the room. “Who is this whore?” she asked Holly, the grating sting of her whisper almost causing Holly to recoil. “You told me you’d be introducing me to Cidnay!”
Holly peeked at Bez, who seemed mostly oblivious to the world around her. “I don’t know, I think she’s one of his weird homeless friends,” Holly whispered to her fellow Housewife of Beverly Hills. “She’s French or something. Look, don’t worry about it, once we’re done with this gig, I’ll make sure you and Cidnay can have a moment together.”
“You heard The Great Haboob, Holly. He said Cidnay is to be my fourth husband and the third father of my children.”
“I don’t think he said those words exactly,” Holly replied sheepishly before looking back at the cameras with a smile. “And I don’t think he mentioned my very dear and very real friend Cidnay’s name either.”
“Holly, do you know how long I have been waiting for a new man to come into my life?”
“I don’t know,” Holly sighed as she turned back to her “friend” before deciding to hazard a guess. “Six months?”
“Nearly.”
“Listen, it’ll be fine,” Holly said as she rested her hands on Crysta-Elizabeth’s broad shoulders. “Just let me finish this work thing and we’ll sort it out, okay?”
“Okay,” Crysta-Elizabeth conceded while calming herself down. “Okay, Holly. I believe in you like I believe in The Great Haboob.”
“Aww, that’s—…” Holly’s voice trailed off before she just smiled and nodded politely. “Okay.”
“What’s it like with both of you being World Champion?”
Before Cid could even open his mouth to respond, Asher took the only microphone on the table to speak out to the crowd. “Great question, but what you’re basically asking is what it’s been like to make SCW history,” said Asher, standing up next to Cid while Holly sat in the only chair available on stage. “The answer to that is…well, it’s been good. It feels good to be historic. I mean, that’s obvious. On second thought, that question was stupid. Next question, please.”
Asher set the microphone back on the table while Holly clapped while nodding, encouraging a few others in the crowd to clap along to varying results.
It had gone this way for the majority of the event. Cid took a moment to think about it and he wasn’t even sure if he’d gotten to answer a question yet, but it wasn’t too bad. Most of the things Asher and Holly were saying were things that he himself might say, just maybe a bit louder than he would. The worst part of it all was the fact that his feet were getting tired standing there with his belt around his waist, which Holly only allowed him to hold after she was told by staff that he needed to wear it for the event. After a brief threat of cancelling them for discrimination against white women and threatening a lawsuit, Holly eventually conceded.
“Okay, thank you, Asher,” the host said as he walked through the crowd to get to the next person. “Question, sir?”
The man stood up, microphone held up to his mouth by the host. “Yes, this one is for Cid,” the fan started. Cid perked up at the thought of answering his first question. “Cid, what changes have you noticed in your life ever since becoming a client of Holly’s life coaching?”
Cid reached down for the microphone, but Holly swept in like a mother hen and clawed the mic away.
“Again, an uninspired question,” Holly groaned softly into the mic before flashing a fake smile. “But we’re here to answer questions, good or bad! So I’ll say that the effects of my life coaching on Cidnay have been…life changing. Since becoming a client of the Life Coaching by Holly, trademarked, Brand, Cidnay has become World Champion—”
“But that was before—”
“—and defended the World Championship more than anyone else ever has—”
“But he’s only had two—”
“—and has also been seen with women backstage that looked like they were not there against their will,” Holly finished while ignoring any and all protests. She put one hand on her heart and resumed. “Him and Asher have become the most dominant World Champions of all time with my help and it’s truly touching that I could be responsible for them achieving this as clients of the Life Coaching by Holly, trademarked, Brand. Thank you for your question.”
“All righty, next question over here,” the host moved on quickly, stepping over a few people to get to another person raising their hand up. The host pointed him out while heading towards him. The fan stood up, dwarfing the host as he arrived at his side. “Okay, big fella, a question for the champ?”
“Champs,” Holly quickly blurted out into the microphone.
“Question for the champs?”
The tall, fit man grabbed the microphone from the host and brought it up. “Are you grateful to still be wrestling after being diagnosed with spinal stenosis?” he asked in a deep, sombre tone.
Holly looked around confused, eventually drawing her eyes up at Asher. “I don’t have that,” she whispered to him. “Do you?”
Asher shrugged. With Holly distracted, Cid grabbed the microphone and finally spoke for himself. “It’s been a battle,” he answered stoically.
“Oh, right, Cidnay has it,” Holly whispered to herself. “I knew that.”
“And, uh…well, that’s the truth,” Cid went on. “Sure, I’m doing well thanks to Asher and Holly.” Again, Holly briefly claps while smiling. “I’ve also done a lot of work to help my situation, but…as I’ve been told several times, there is no cure. So, all it takes is just…one opponent…one match…one bad fall…and it’s over.” He paused and took a breath. “I’m over.”
Silence filled the room as the fan nodded and sat back down. Holly looked around cautiously before clapping again, getting a few half-hearted claps in response, including Asher. Cid set the microphone down, drawing some soft feedback on impact.
“Well…that was certainly a note to end on,” the host muttered awkwardly before clearing his throat and perking up. “But up next, for those who paid to be here, you’ll get to not only receive an autograph from SCW World Champion Cid Turner, but you’ll get to meet him, too!” The crowd cheered, but Holly made sure to loudly clear her throat directly into the microphone in front of her, prompting the host. “As well as special guests Asher Hayes and Holly Adams! Wonderful!”
Asher quickly took the mic and spoke over the cheering crowd. “Disclaimer: I will not be signing autographs unless compensated, financially or otherwise,” he said, both flat and curt. Holly nodded in agreement. Boos scattered throughout the crowd. “Thank you for your understanding.”
Another fan, another item signed. One by one, they came and went, making Cid feel like he was working on a factory line, just with better pay and the mentally taxing pressure of being a public figure. The business side of holding the World Championship wasn’t nearly as exciting as the rest of it, but at least he was bringing joy to others.
“Thanks,” a fan mumbled lifelessly as he took his autographed picture of Cid back and scampered off to sell it on eBay for much more than he paid to get it.
“Right,” Cid said as the next fan walked up, a much younger blonde woman with a nervous demeanour, one of the few remaining fans left for the day. She nodded at both Asher and Holly, who managed to find seats for themselves before bringing them to the table. The fan cautiously slid a 2020 Cid Turner Funko Pop figure on the table, still in the unsealed box. Cid picked it up with a rare smile on his face. “Oh, wow, this is cute. I wish I looked like this in real life. Who do I make it out to?”
“Emma,” she replied quietly. Cid nodded and started signing the front of the box. “Um…can I touch it?”
“Oh, hello,” Asher said with a smirk.
Cid stopped signing and slowly brought his eyes up. “Excuse me?”
“Can I touch the belt?”
“Oh,” Cid exclaimed, quickly finishing his signature. “Well, sure, you can—”
Asher sighed and took his personal replica of the belt from his shoulder, holding it out to Emma. “Free of charge,” he said as he nudged it towards her further. “Just because you’re kinda pretty…at least compared to the rest of the people here.”
“Oh, um…” Emma looked back and forth between Asher and Cid, even shooting a nervous glance at Holly, who was mostly worried about the Housewives camera crew getting the best angle of her and everyone else. “I meant…the real one,” Emma clarified.
Asher jaw dropped, his eyebrows following suit to create a picture of genuine disbelief. “The real one? The real—…you—…ohh, wow,” Asher stammered, at a complete loss as to what to even say. After a deep breath at the instruction of his life coach, he came to a conclusion. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Emma chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard your champion, bitch,” Asher said calmly, but with a clear undertone of hatred for the poor girl. “Get out.”
Cid cleared his throat and put a hand up. “Ash, she just—”
“Security!” yelled Holly, snapping her fingers repeatedly until a security guard walked up next to the confused fan. “This heifer is harassing the talent! Take care of it!”
“Hey, I didn’t—”
“Here,” Cid cut Emma off as the guard grabbed her by the arm. Cid handed her the signed figure and shook his head. “Sorry, it’s just—…it’s a stressful time of the year.”
“Get her out of my sight!” Asher snapped, even going so far as to stand up and kick his seat behind him. Per his request, the guard escorted the harmless girl away.
“Asher, let’s not get too hostile,” Holly warned him while gesturing for him to sit back down. He took another breath and obliged. “We’re in North Carolina, so…we have to assume that some of Selena’s inbred family might be here, looking to avenge their sister/mother Snow Queen after we humiliated her and her sister/wife on Breakdown.”
“Is Selena from North Carolina?” asked Cid.
“No, but it’s a hick town, so you never know,” Holly explained as Asher nodded along. “It might get all Children of the Corn in here. I swear, when we were answering questions, I’m pretty sure I heard someone quietly chanting ‘we believe’ over and over again in the back.”
“We might wanna clear out,” Asher suggested, pointing at Holly to give her props on her smart thinking. “Selena – that girl’s got hick strength. As good as we are, we might be outmatched by all of her followers/family.”
“Hick strength?” echoed Cid.
“Oh yeah, she’s small, but she packs a punch due to her unnatural genes,” Asher said while taking in his surroundings, just in case. “Or at least that’s what Holly told me.”
“And that’s something to remember, Cidnay,” Holly quickly chimed in. “Don’t underestimate her at Taking Hold of the Flame. That girl has the violent strength which can only be made possible by relatives procreating for generations.”
“Wow, I had no idea,” Cid said, leaving his mouth hung open in slight shock. “She seems so normal, though.”
“That’s how they trick you, she only got strength instead of extra limbs,” Holly said with a soft nod.
“Anyway, we only have one more thing to sign, so let’s just do it and then we’ll get outta here,” Cid said as he waved the last person through. Standing tall above him, Cid recognized the fan as the same one who asked him about his spinal stenosis earlier. With the fan placing a pair of tights on the table for Cid to sign, his physique was suddenly explained. “So, you’re a wrestler?”
“Used to be,” he replied with a shrug. “Not for a long time.”
Cid held up the tights in front of him. Red and white colouring with a red maple leaf outline on the back. “Not from around here, I take it?” The fan nodded. “What’re you doin’ all the way down here?”
“I came to see you,” he said before laughing softly. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Cid shook his head. “Sorry, don’t recall.”
“Cidnay is still learning as a client of the Life Coaching by Holly, trademarked, Brand,” Holly cut in with a faux smile. “One of the side effects of growing so quickly under such great guidance is transient global amnesia, so please forgive him for not remembering whoever you are, it’s just a symptom of his growth as a person.”
“What’s your name?” Cid asked with his pen at the ready.
“Adam,” he said as Cid began to sign the tights. “In the ring, they called me Wrath.”
“Who’s they?” Asher wondered aloud.
“Well, here you go, Adam,” Cid said after finishing the signature. He slid the tights back across the table. “What’d you say your ring name was?”
“Wrath.”
Cid thought about it. “Kinda rings a bell, I guess. Nothing crystal clear, but hey, I’ve mixed it up with a lot of people over the years,” he said before nodding his head towards Holly. “Plus my amnesia caused by my life coaching.”
“You really don’t remember?” Again, Cid could only shake his head. “Here’s a hint. I was your last opponent for seven years.”
Cid’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God,” he gasped. “Alex Desoubrais, Junior?!”
Adam just blinked repeatedly, not sure how to react to Cid as he continued to look on in shock at who he thought was the son of CHBK despite the two looking nothing alike.. “Uh, no,” he finally replied. “Sorry, I’ll just be blunt. I was one of your students.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I was the one you were facing when you got injured.”
The memory hit him like a truck.
February 13, 2013. In hopes of starting a promotion under his own control after leaving SCW, Cid brought together all of his students that he’d been training for close to a year to film a test episode of what he hoped would be a new wrestling program, something to rival SCW itself. Circumstances led to him wrestling in the main event against a Canadian student of his. Wrath.
The release suplex onto the apron. His body folding like an accordion. The tingles rolling through his arms and all the way to his legs. Not even being able to stand. The referee calling for the bell. Elizabeth’s worried face. The end of a career.
Or so he thought, at the time.
“Oh,” Cid muttered softly while swallowing a lump in his throat. “Right, I remember now. It’s, uh…good to see you again. Sorry not everything panned out.”
“Ended up working out for you, though, didn’t it?”
Cid gently nodded. “I guess it did.”
“Thanks for this,” Adam said as he grabbed the tights and held them up while giving Cid a nod. He wrapped them up and placed them into his bag. After taking a step away, he stopped and turned back to Cid with a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, do you wanna catch up?”
“I, uh—”
“There’s a café not far from here, if you’re not too busy to catch up with an old student.”
“Yeah…okay, sure,” Cid hesitantly agreed. “I guess I can make the time.”
“I’ll hold this for you,” Holly said as she snatched the World Championship from Cid and held it tightly against her chest as she started to stand up.
“All right, signing over,” Asher barked out. “Your champions have spoken! Go home, nerds!”
The small crowd that remained in the venue booed.
“Have fun, Cidnay,” Holly said as she, Asher, and the Housewives camera crew all scattered away, leaving Cid and Adam together on the stage with the leftovers from the signing looking on from below.
“So, uh…where’re you thinkin’?”
A glass of milk was set in front of Cid while Adam opted for some sort of fruit smoothie. As the waitress walked away, Cid softly smacked his own head.
“Ah, shit,” he grumbled. “I forgot I’m vegan now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I can’t consume anything with a face.”
Adam lifted his head to get a better look at Cid’s drink across the small table. “I don’t see a face in there,” he quipped.
“Right, but it had one,” Cid sighed before sliding his glass away.
“Wanna switch?”
“If you don’t mind,” Cid said as they swapped drinks. With a lift and a drink, Cid felt the power of natural living coursing through him. The thickness of the smoothie left behind a small residue on his upper lip. “Good stuff.”
“You’ve got a mustache,” Adam noted, pointing at the layer of juice on Cid’s face.
Cid stroked his beard. “Yeah, I’ve thought of shaving it, but it’s just kind of my look now. I look a bit insane, I know,” he admitted while twirling the bottom of raggedy facial hair. “But it’s kind of who I am now. I’m trying to embrace it. My life coach told me it’s part of my brand.”
“Oh, okay,” Adam mumbled. He was just referring to the clumps of fruit in Cid’s mustache, but he appreciated the life story, regardless. “So, you’ve been busy since we last spoke.”
“I guess I have, yeah,” Cid muttered while scratching the back of his head.
“World Champion.”
“I sometimes forget it, y’know,” Cid said as he looked down at his smoothie. “I lived the way I did for so long, I—…I guess just…stuck in that mindset of feeling like nothing. I wake up and feel that and just wonder where I’m going with my life…then I see the belt on my nightstand. I’m the World Champion. I’ve reached the peak of my career. I don’t have to worry about where I’m going anymore.”
“From invalid to World Champion,” Adam remarked with a dry chuckle. “You know, we all knew about your diagnosis.”
Cid shook his head. “I made an effort not to let anyone know.”
“Word spreads, is the thing. Your teacher wakes up one day and decides to throw away all of his students like they’re nothing…” Adam stopped and bit the inside of his lip. “Well, something like that happens, people start asking questions, then some people answer ‘em.”
“Fuckin’ Clyde,” Cid assumed, correctly so.
“It spreads from one person to another and before you know it, everyone knows.”
“I guess I learned that eventually,” Cid said as he looked up from his smoothie and back at Adam, who took a sip of milk that filled Cid with envy. “Someone had to have told Chad, who then told the world. It hasn’t been that bad, though. People haven’t been as aggressive about it as I imagined. I guess not everyone wants to be responsible for crippling a man for the rest of his life.”
“Something like that can really follow someone around,” Adam responded quickly.
Cid let out a cautious laugh. “I guess you would know,” he said before pausing for a few moments. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Well, maybe not about getting injured,” Cid quickly corrected himself. “I was apparently a ticking time bomb as far as that goes, but I mean…I’m sorry about the aftermath. Closing the school, kicking everyone out, becoming a recluse.”
“Do you regret it all?”
Cid took a bit to think about it. “I guess it’s led me here, so…”
“Right.”
“I dunno.”
“Why didn’t you just start training people again?” Adam asked. “I think you were a good teacher. Eccentric, maybe, but you got the job done. I mean, Christ, we were on the verge of starting a promotion before everything happened. You had a gift.”
“I…” Cid looked to the side and watched as people walked by them sitting in the outdoor dining area. Memories of his brief time as a teacher flooded his brain, reminding him of how happy he felt at the time. Leaving SCW was a mistake, but he made the most of it…until he didn’t. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I guess I’ve withheld a lot of stuff from myself. For the last seven or eight years, I’ve basically been telling myself that I’m not worthy of anything.”
“But you’re worthy now?”
Cid continued to look at the passing civilians before turning back to Adam. “I think I might be,” he said without a ton of confidence. “As far as teaching goes, I dunno. We’ll see. What about you? How’ve you been?”
Adam grew silent. Running his finger along the rim of the glass of milk, he let the question stew. “I just wanted to learn,” he finally said, a heavy sort of sorrow filling his voice. “I just wanted to learn and to be better.”
It suddenly got awkward. Cid nervously tapped his foot on the ground while going back to looking at passersby. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled. “Again, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Adam responded with a wave of his hand. “It wasn’t meant to be. Some people are just meant to be accountants, while other people are meant to be champions. The way she goes. People move on. You moved on, now look at you.”
Cid slowly nodded. “Right,” he muttered softly while clearing his throat. “Hey, how ‘bout I get the check on this one?”
“For a glass of milk and a smoothie.”
“Um…yeah, I’ll grab it,” he quickly replied before shooting up from the table and heading to the front counter to escape the conversation.
“Well, Adam,” Cid exhaled through a heavy sigh, “it was really nice seeing you again. I really mean that.”
The two stood just outside the café having wrapped up their rendezvous. To Cid’s eyes, Adam seemed to have gotten back to a neutral state after dipping into melodrama just before. He’d never really considered the other side of the match where his injury took place, but he could see why his former student would be bitter. Free boarding and being paid to get trained by a member of a wrestling Hall of Fame, it was a great deal. Cid couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.
“Hey, do you wanna go for a smoke?” asked Adam, gesturing his head back towards a nearby alley. “It’s been a weird day, huh? Let’s take a load off.”
“I, uh…I dunno,” Cid said quietly as he looked towards the dirty alley. “I have to get back to my French girlfriend. Not to mention my life coach and best friend.”
“Oh, c’mon, it’ll only be an extra few minutes,” Adam insisted. “You’ve gotta tell me some stories over a smoke.”
“God damn it,” Cid groaned under his breath. “All right, but I don’t smoke.”
“Let’s just have a chat then while I have a smoke, eh?”
“Lead the way, former student.”
“Of course, sensei,” Adam said with a smirk while taking out a pack of cigarettes and walking towards the alley with Cid in tow.
Cid stopped at the start of the alley, but Adam gestured for him to go even further. After obliging, Cid couldn’t help but notice that the further it went, the dirtier it got. To make things worse, Adam opted to stop and light up next to a dumpster. While they hadn’t had lunch at the café, they could at least see the menu on display with a peek under the lid.
“We look like we’re in the middle of a drug deal,” Cid joked while taking a look around before placing his back against a wall, though not with much force in fear of having some sort of indescribable goop smeared across the back of his jacket. “Or maybe in the middle of some hobo’s property.”
“So,” Adam began, taking a quick drag, “you really didn’t remember me?”
“Admittedly, when I think back to that moment, I think more about myself than anyone else,” Cid confessed. “I dunno if that’s selfish or whatever, but…it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of that.”
“You know, I could actually tell,” Adam said as he blew a cloud of smoke out. “I thought, ‘this man doesn’t remember me, this man doesn’t know me, he has no idea who I am,’ and you proved it so quickly. I saw it in your eyes, man.”
“So much shit’s gone on since that went down,” Cid told him with a shake of his head. “It honestly feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Could you see it in my eyes?”
“See what?”
“That I knew you.”
Cid shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Not really.”
“Y’know, I sent you some letters.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, just saying sorry for everything that happened,” Adam continued. “I might have begged for you to open everything back up once or twice.”
“I actually didn’t check my mail for about a year after the incident. I remember the first time leaving my house, I had to fetch my Russian mail-order—”
“Then I sent some more letters,” Adam interrupted. “Then more and more. Never getting a response because you just cared about yourself, not about what you did to all of us.”
Cid awkwardly shuffled around on the wall as the tone of the conversation suddenly changed. “Hey, man, I—”
“So then I started sending some anonymous letters, just because I thought maybe it was just me you didn’t like, y’know? Next letter—I was kinda just messing around a bit, but…I sent something threatening, dressing it up like those old school letters from the movies, y’know, like with the cutouts from magazines.”
Cid’s heart dropped. He remembered not long before the conclusion of the Tag League, Clyde had told him that he’d been getting these death threats for a long time, which Clyde had shrugged off at the time while just throwing them in the trash. With how busy he’d gotten after the League and after winning the World Championship, Cid had mostly even forgotten about the letters.
It seemed they had finally caught up to him.
“Listen, Adam, I—”
Adam threw his cigarette to the side and suddenly launched himself at Cid, plowing him into the wall and grinding an elbow up against his chest.
Oddly enough, Cid couldn’t help but think of how he was now fully up against the dirty brick wall. “Adam, this wall is disgusting, can you just—” Before Cid could finish, Adam pulled out a massive hunting knife and held it up against Cid’s throat. Cid looked down at it in both fear and confusion. “Fucking hell, look at the size of that thing! Do I look that threatening to you?!”
“You took everything from me,” Adam growled through gritted teeth, pushing the blade further. “One match with you and suddenly I was the man who nearly killed Cid Turner and forced him to hide from the world.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Cid asked through a strained whisper. “Barely anyone knew what happened to me, and even if that were true, who the hell cares?! The wrestling industry thrives on attempted murder!”
“If you cared about anyone other than yourself, you would know what that looks like to promoters,” Adam explained further. “The last time you were seen was with me and then you suddenly disappear? The word spread so fast that I did something to end your career. I was blacklisted because of you!”
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“No,” Adam cut him off sternly. “No, you’re not. If you were, then you would have responded to my letters. You would have accepted my apology! Instead, you just wallowed in your own misery until the business let you back in.” Adam stopped and shook his head in disgust. “They welcomed you back with open arms…and what happened? Suddenly, your depression is over. Back to the world of smiling faces…while I become an accountant.”
“Adam—”
“An accountant, you asshole! I put my future in your hands and you threw it away! I’ll never get it back, but I can at least take yours from you.”
“Listen, man, I—”
“Choose your next words very carefully,” Adam whispered, almost nose-to-nose with Cid as he applied more pressure with the knife. “They’ll be your last.”
Cid closed his eyes and went through the motions of wondering how he could possibly escape. After running through a few scenarios through his mind, he suddenly got bored. He was trapped, but not just physically. He couldn’t help but wonder what the point of resisting even was.
His life was a mess. Even though he was maybe the most successful he’d ever been in his career, it wasn’t lifting him up the way he expected. While he spent his whole life only caring about his career as a wrestler, it was only recently that he realized that there’s more to life than that. He was back on top, but what did it really mean?
No Elizabeth. An estranged daughter. A best friend and life coach that people are accusing of using him on a weekly basis. An enormous target on his back as World Champion. Even thinking back to his pathetic birthday party, it seemed like a minor miracle that anyone even showed up. While Bez was a welcome addition, he questioned the legitimacy of their relationship that also seemed to upset those at home – Clyde and Elizaveta.
Nothing was ever right. Maybe this was because he ran out of Xanax. Either way, he just couldn’t be bothered anymore.
“Just do it,” Cid mumbled softly as he opened his eyes and looked up to the sky.
Adam furrowed his brow and looked at Cid, who had quickly become less tense, his body almost becoming limp against the wall. “What?”
“Just kill me,” Cid clarified, eyes still drawn up. “I have nothing more to live for.”
“No, no, you—” Adam stopped his stutter and shook his head. In the confusion, he unknowingly eased the pressure of the knife against Cid’s neck. “No, this isn’t right. You’re on top of the world and I’m taking it away from you. You’re supposed to beg!”
“Oh, please,” Cid scoffed. “No matter what I do, nothing ever seems to go right. I stumbled into success in SCW. That’s the extent of my luck. Outside of that, everything is ruined. My family looks down on me, my ex-wife will never love me that way that I want, and I’m nothing more than a man on a screen to my own daughter.”
“Daughter? You—”
Out of nowhere, Adam was launched several feet away, flying through the air until crashing down into a murky puddle. Cid brought his eyes down from the sky and saw that Crysta-Elizabeth had just used her lineback-esque stature to check Adam across the alley with a devastating shoulder tackle.
Adam panicked as he noticed the knife under Crysta-Elizabeth’s size thirteen boot. He scrambled to his feet and ran away, going down the other side of the alley until he disappeared around a corner.
“You don’t touch him!” Crysta-Elizabeth called out, the bass in her voice shaking the dumpster that Cid now found himself slumped against. He slid down and fell onto his backside, looking up at Crysta-Elizabeth’s imposing presence. “Are you okay, Cidnay?!”
“Wh—what—…what are you doing here?” he asked, catching his suddenly lost breath.
“Holly said that you were here! She said if I waited here long enough then maybe we could get some alone time, so I was watching you at the diner for thirty minutes, but then I saw that creep take you into this alley!”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“I would never let anyone hurt you!”
Cid shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he guessed that he should appear grateful. “Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you, Crysta-Elizabeth.”
Crysta-Elizabeth looked genuinely moved as he placed her hand just over her mouth. “You remembered my name.”
Before Cid could respond, he felt something rush from his stomach and up to his throat until he suddenly puked all over the ground next to him.
“Um, ew?!”
As Crysta-Elizabeth continued to voice her displeasure at the scene, Cid let the rest of it out. After he was fully evacuated, he slowly slid down further until his head was resting right next to his pool of vomit.
It must have been from the adrenaline of almost being murdered, he figured. Maybe that was a good thing. It showed that he cared, maybe. The problem was that he didn’t really feel it. He’d spent so long being terrified of the concept of dying, but when it finally came to him, he just laid back and accepted it. He wondered if this meant that he was just getting worse, not better like everyone had been telling him.
He felt his eyes start to glaze over. The smell of his vomit was unpleasant. As his eyes closed, his final sight was of something that he wondered was just another empty gesture of trying to get better in the face of the reality that he probably never will.
Tofu stir fry. Goddamn tofu stir fry.
“Look, I’ve always been the first one to admit that I’ve not always been the most confident person inside the ring since I came back last year at Rise to Greatness,” Cid began while nervously bouncing his knee while clutching to the SCW World Championship draped over his shoulder. “That’s just the truth, but through it all, I’d like to think that I’ve done a lot. In the face of diversity, I’ve become a Tag League Champion, a World Tag Team Champion, and a World Champion, all with my best friend. No matter how low I sunk myself, Asher was there to bring me back up and remind me that I’m worthy. With his help and with Holly’s added life coaching, I’ve grown a lot in the last year.”
Cid paused and released a shaky exhale. “But I’m starting to feel like all that work might be undone,” he confessed mournfully. “Because on Breakdown, I have to face Derek Adonis, and just like I’ve always been the first one to admit that my confidence wavered often early on, I’ll be the first one to admit that my newfound confidence is currently being shaken from just the idea of this match taking place. I mean, I feel like I’m on the verge of slipping into old habits that I’ve so desperately tried to get away from.
What do we know about Derek Adonis? Admittedly, I personally don’t know much, but what I do know…well, it concerns me. Because what I know definitively about Derek Adonis is that he’s beaten both Syren and Tommy Valentine in this company’s recent history. What do those two people have in common? Well, of course, they’re great competitors. Tommy built a nice legacy when I was on hiatus from the business and Syren—well, I don’t have to tell any of you, do I? They’re both a big part of SCW history. They’re both…SCW Hall of Fame members.
What am I?”
Cid stopped and let the question linger as he slowly brought up his hand to reveal his Hall of Fame ring.
“I’m a Hall of Famer, damn it!” he suddenly snapped, driving his fist into his knee. “I’m just another name on a list that Derek Adonis is going down, checking it off name-by-name until he reaches the end, leaving behind a pile of prestigious bodies in his wake! This man is an assassin, specializing in one thing: the execution of legends!
And I’m not gonna be fooled by his appearance. I’m an example of never judging a book by its cover. Do I look like a lumberjack that’s also fallen on some hard times in this current recession, leaving him without a home? Yes, I do. I’ve come to terms with that. And Derek, does he look like an assistant manager at Sizzler but with the physique of someone who takes advantage of said diner’s all-you-can-eat dining policy? Yes! Yes, he does.
But like I’ve overcome my physical shortcomings, this man has done the exact same…maybe even in grander fashion, to be frank. Now, yes, Asher and I are the World Champions. That means something. But if I’m being honest, sometimes you need a little luck in this business. Not to say that Asher and I haven’t earned this, because we have, but there have been dozens of people near our level that never received the opportunity. To win the big one, you have to actually get a shot at the big one, and for some people…that just doesn’t happen.
So while Derek may not share my accolades, I think what he’s done is at least just as impressive as what I’ve done. The expectations for him have always been low, but just look at what he’s done when he’s had a chance. He’s shocked the world. Imagine if this match was for the World Championship. Imagine if—…imagine…”
Cid paused and took a moment to compose himself. “I don’t even wanna think of these things. In fact, I won’t. This isn’t a World Championship match. That nightmare will not become a reality, thankfully, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last year, it’s that you shouldn’t worry about things that aren’t real, like my sleep paralysis demon: dark-haired Selena Frost.
So instead, I’ll focus on what’s real. What’s real is that I have a chance to end Derek’s reign of terror over the SCW Hall of Fame. Syren couldn’t get it done. Tommy Valentine couldn’t get it done. Not for lack of trying, either of those two, but they couldn’t put away the monster inside of that ring. Now? Now…it’s come down to me. I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted it. But if you’ll recall, I never wanted the SCW World Championship either. Just like I made that work, I’ll make this work.
I won’t be alone. Yes, I’ll have the moral support of my best friend Asher Hayes and my life coach Holly Adams, just like I do on a weekly basis. But this week, I’ll have more than that.
I’ll have the spiritual support of the entire SCW Hall of Fame.
That’s right. Steve Griffin will have my back with a spiritual Decimator. Dillusion and his stupid ass gnome will be cheering me on from the heavens. The Mercenaries – may they continue to burn in hell for eternity – will be looking up at me, saying, ‘go, Cid, go!’ And you know what? Even Devon Kayl will be there. I don’t know why, but he will be, along with the rest of ‘em!
I’m fighting for the future of SCW with the full support of the past! Fee-fi-fo-fum all you want, it won’t matter, because this Thursday on Breakdown, Jack slays the giant! The dead will be avenged, the captives will be freed, I’ll marry the Duke’s daughter, and we’ll all live on, safe from this big, evil bastard! We’ll live in peace! Happily! Ever! After!”
THE RISE OF THE FALLEN KING 