Scenes From A Diner
Apr 5, 2020 14:55:39 GMT -6
Ruthless Aggression, Samantha "Titaness" Hamilton, and 6 more like this
Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2020 14:55:39 GMT -6
Scenes From A Diner
If one imagined a classic diner in their minds, it would probably look something like Rae’s.
The inside was painted a retro-feeling shade of turquoise with hanging white globe lamps over the white formica counter studded with blue swivel chairs, the other half of the space lined with booths, the bench seats upholstered in red vinyl. There was a seemingly permanent scent of breakfast hanging in the air, the sizzle of the flattop grill providing an ambience to the sussrus of conversation.
One of these booths was currently occupied by two people, two plates of pancakes- one plain, one covered in strawberry topping- a glass of grapefruit juice and a black coffee. Despite the cheery atmosphere of the place, a sort of dark apathy hung over the table.The booths on either side of it were also empty- whether this had been verbally requested or the aura of ‘stay away’ had been read loud and clear, it was hard to tell.
Mike McGuire somewhat savagely stabbed a strawberry off of their pancakes, popping it in their mouth and devouring it like an irate predator.
“Well that fucking sucked.”
They rolled their shoulders, hunching over their coffee, hands clutching either side of the warm mug. Their snort broke up the plume of steam rising from the fragrant beverage.
John Bishop Church looked off in the distance, his plate untouched.
“Whatever.”
Mike sighed, staring into the dark brown depths of the mug. One hand pulled away from the porcelain, reaching halfway across the table. A thought rolled around in their head. The deal had been contingent on victory, but there was something sour in their mouth. Something unpleasant, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder…
“...we can call it if you want. I know I said ‘till we win the title’, but…”
They trailed off. Their insinuation wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, most likely, but it would to him, and that’s all that really mattered.
John thought about that. He thought about what waited for him at home and he would be lying if he wasn’t ready for it.
But, still…
“No.”
“Thank you.”
They looked up, the frustration and anger falling away at least for the moment, eyes going that particular sort of tender.
It was about that time that the bell on the door chimed, signifying a customer coming in, the waitress nearest the door greeting someone who, from the sounds of it, was a regular.
“Well, evening, Silvie!”
“Hi, Rose!”
The voice was familiar, but the cheerful sounding gait stopped dead in short order. Eyes widening, Silver Ann Gold took a step back, eyeing the pair in the isolated booth.
“Actually… maybe I better go.”
John was broken from his train of thought as Silver registered eye contact with him.
“Take a seat, Sylvia.”
The girl eyed the table, and the door, as if wondering whether or not she were being invited into a trap. As if in response, Mike got up, taking a seat beside their partner and moving their pancakes, giving Silver ample room to join them.
“If you’re wondering whether we’re going to jump you, we’re not in the fuckin’ mood even if we wanted to. Park it, kid. Order something. Our treat.”
Biting her lip, Silver slid into the booth, asking the waitress- Rose, apparently- for a chocolate malt, twiddling her fingers on the tabletop.
“I, um… I come here all the time. I didn’t know you were gonna be in here.”
“Small world.”
“Yeah. So…”
Silver’s mind flitted through a rolodex of possible things to say. ‘Sorry about your match’ hardly seemed appropriate. They weren’t friends by a long shot. On the other hand, their promo that had aired in the buildup to the match had stuck in her mind. Given her context that she hadn’t had before. Start there, maybe.
She looked up, large eyes earnest.
“I’m sorry. About some of the stuff I said before. I didn’t know you two went through all that stuff. I understand better now, I think.”
John measured her words heavily while taking a sip from his glass.
“Okay.”
Fingers twiddled again. The girl still looked like a doe who’d been unwittingly thrust into a lion’s den. The plain short stack still remained untouched, butter and syrup still in their respective little cups at the side of John’s plate. Mike was attacking their strawberry pancakes in a somewhat disconcerting manner. They stopped just long enough to swallow, take a sip of their coffee, and address Silver as well.
“Gotta admit, your play was smart. You’re naive as shit, but you ain’t stupid. Plus it looked like you learned a little something, so there’s that.”
“Learned something…?”
Silver cocked her head to the side, only to suddenly lean back as a large chocolate malt in an old fashioned milkshake glass was slid in front of her, the whipped cream nearly colliding with her nose.
“From what?”
“What this business is. Take a look at it. All of it. The betrayal. The misery. The delusion. Dominic Sanders realizes that his whole operation shit the bed so to save face, they appear on camera and now they suddenly care. All three of them contradict each other, backpedaling the lies they’ve told over the last six months. They’re a joke. But they were right about one thing. What they were and what they are - doesn’t matter. They got us.”
He paused.
“But unfortunately, not everyone is as easy to peg as those three. There’s some out there that clearly showed something to you...but for everyone one of those, there are two that offer nothing but thoughts and prayers to that incident still to this day.”
“See, kid, you can paint us as the bad guys all you want. And maybe you’re right. But there’s worse people than us all around you. Big hungry wolves wrapped in sheepskin who’ll gobble up a green young thing like you in two fuckin’ shakes. And then, maybe even worse, there’s other sheep who’ll see that happening, shrug, and go ‘least it wasn’t me’. You go around trying to be a cute little Care Bear and be everybody’s friend? You’ll run into both sooner or later. We were just giving you an object lesson, and it looks like you took it.”
“I guess so.”
Silver plucked the cherry off the top of her malt and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing.
“But if everyone in this business isn’t trustworthy… then the opposite’s true too, you know. Not everyone here is untrustworthy. You two, you’re in your own little bubble and you push everyone else away. I don’t think you even really trust the people you’re working with. And I understand why now. But it’s still not fair.”
John laughed softly, shaking his head.
“There you go again. That ‘fair’ stuff. You think we went and put ourselves out there like that so you could feel sorry for us? To show how unfair our lives are? To what, in their words, justify why we’re assholes?”
“No.”
Silver shook her head.
“I think you were being raw and honest. I liked it. The honesty, I mean. But you still push people away, and while it might’ve saved you from getting screwed over you might’ve missed out on something genuine, too.”
Mike scoffed.
“You’re talking like we need anyone else. And let’s pretend you’re right and Chuck is just the means to an end. Byrd too. What the fuck does it matter?”
“It matters because you can’t exist in a vacuum. People need each other at the end of the day whether you want it or not. Like… I don’t know if you know this, but there’s people who still look up to you because of what you stood for. The people who don’t fit in. Who don’t have people they can relate to. But they relate to you because you made it your business to reach out to them. And they’re still reaching back, even if you’ve pulled your hands away.”
She pushed her blonde mane out of her face. Her expression wasn’t judging, but it was almost pleading. John took another long sip of his juice, looking somewhat thoughtful. He wiped his lips with a napkin and then narrowed his gaze at the blonde across from him.
“This business is a vacuum. If it weren’t, you think we would even be talking to you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You didn’t have to. I was about to leave, and you called me over so you obviously wanted to talk to me about something.”
The girl grinned, but it faded a bit at a mild glare from Mike. She cleared her throat.
“The thing is, maybe you have a point. Like most things, the industry is flawed. But if you don’t like how it is, why not try to change it? That’s what I’m doing, or trying to do, but the thing is I’m not nearly as experienced or influential as you. If you wanted to make the EWC a better place, you probably could.”
John and Mike looked at each other. And maybe for a moment, one could hear some inspirational piece swelling up. Maybe there was a point made right here and right now. It had maybe penetrated some thick hide or broken through some wall put up as a means of protection.
Instead, John reached inside his jacket, retrieved his wallet, and dropped a fifty on the table.
“We’re done.”
“Enjoy your milkshake, kiddo.”
The two of them walked out, even their stride seeming in synch. Silver watched them go, sighed, and sipped at the malt, partially melted by now, watching out the window as a rental car pulled out of the parking lot and sped out of sight.