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Thaddeus Duke · (04-28-2021)

Woolworth Tower || Tribeca – New York City || 11:14 PM

I guess the question is what’s next for Thaddeus Duke? Anytime a man suffers a loss, the effects can be catastrophic. Traditionally, I don’t sulk over failure. What I’ve learned over the course of both my life and my career is that losses are there to teach you why this thing or that thing doesn’t work. Whether it’s a miscalculation you made or allowing arrogance to cloud your otherwise better judgment- losses teach you things if you’re smart enough to recognize the lessons within.

You’re probably thinking this is all about the string of failures I’ve had recently in the world of the XWF? That I’m still disappointed by losing the big gold or Corey and I losing the tag straps to Robbie and TK? I enjoyed both of those title runs. The run with the big gold was short, but I fought my ass off and I was a damn proud champion. The tag title reign was a ton of fun, but Robbie and Thunder Knuckles had the right answers at the right time and they earned their way to the top of the tag team division. The collective hat of Continuum is off to them. Our loss is their gain and sooner or later, one iteration of Continuum or another will come calling for a shot to reclaim the titles. The reign may be over, but Continuum still lives. Then, now and forever.

No, the loss I’m referring to isn’t professional in nature. It’s personal loss I’ve been reeling from. Some of it my own doing, some of it not so much. Numerous times in the past I’ve touched on my relationship with my father. It’s difficult not to do it. Without him, I don’t exist. Without Sebastian Duke there would be no Thaddeus. There would be no Lionheart, no Duke Nation, nothing. I owe my very existence to him yet I resent him all the same. Because I resent him, our relationship continues to ebb and flow. So I guess the question is why do I resent him?

For starters, when I was just a baby he killed my mother. I know the story as to why and if I was in his shoes then, I’d have faced the same choices he did. If it was Elizabeth in my mothers shoes, would I have made that same choice? Would I have killed the mother of my children because my dad told me she was a traitor to the cause?

What the hell even is the cause anymore?

I have my doubts that I could have or would have pulled that trigger. It doesn’t make him stronger and me weaker, all it does is make him consider less, care less, think less. That’s not me. I’m a chronic overthinker.

There’s other reasons that I resent him too. Like his wrestling career. It isn’t jealousy. Everyone and their mother knows that I’m better than he ever was and he’s admitted as much himself. I don’t particularly seek out recognition, but you’ll never see my name on a Top 50 list. When my career is done you’ll never see Thaddeus Duke in the Hall of Legends. Thaddeus Duke can never receive those particular honors because Sebastian Duke existed first and its debatable whether he ever truly deserved that recognition for a career well done. The only legacy he needs to be remembered for, is the one I’m giving him.

I’ve lost Frankie. That one sticks a dagger in my chest. Even hiring the best attorney in the Big Apple, I’m not yet convinced that whenever Judge Lightoller decides to put our case on the docket, that he’ll rule in our favor. They took him from me and I haven’t really been the same Thaddeus since. That boy stole my entire heart when I met him and he never gave it back. Since he’s been gone there’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t miss him, that I don’t wonder what he’s doing, that I don’t think about whether or not he’s okay, that he’s eating, that he’s doing his schoolwork. To make matters worse, the Judge ordered that I’m not to have any contact with him whatsoever. And it’s a living nightmare.

Life is greater than wrestling. Winning and losing wrestling matches, winning and losing titles. Making the fans scream at the top of their lungs when my music hits or when I step out from the curtain… none of that really matters if Frankie isn’t part of it.

I sent Elizabeth away too. It remains to be seen whether or not that was the best decision I could have made but it has been made and she’s in North Carolina where she needs to be. Her father doesn’t have a lot of time left and it’s selfish of me to keep her under my thumb when her family needs her more than I do. That’s not to say I don’t need her at all, but there’s some things that she just can’t help me with and what I’m going through right now, no one can help me but myself. There’s no real sense in putting strain on our relationship, on her pregnancy when it just isn’t necessary to do so. She was given her ‘freedom’ by force so whatever comes as a result of me pushing her away I’ll deal with in my own way in my own time. It’s not like I’ve been retaining my virtue, so to speak, since she’s been gone.

There have been others.

There will likely be more.

People still have needs.

Sitting in this quiet, nearly empty bar on the ground floor of Woolworth Tower, I sit by myself with nothing but my beer and my phone in front of me. So you don’t get the wrong idea, no I haven’t been spending my respite away from the XWF just getting drunk. I’m not even a huge drinker. What I have been doing during this little mini-sabbatical, is taking the time to do as Lightoller ordered by seeking counseling and going to anger management. I said life was greater than wrestling and I meant it. I desire nothing professionally more than I desire having Frankie home with me where he belongs. And if I have to fake my way to a clean bill of “not angry at all” then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

While taking a nice long gulp or three of the High Life sitting in front of me, my cell lights up with a video call: Baby Mama.

”Hey,” I say as I set down my beer and hit ‘accept.’

”I’m surprised you didn’t send it to voicemail,” she says with a light laugh.

”The last few times you called I was in class,” I inform her.

”I’m carrying your babies kiddo, do I not take precedence?” she asks of me.

”What? No, it’s not...”

”Relax hun, I’m kidding.”

”You had an appointment today right? Or is that tomorrow?”

”It was today,” she answers.

”Everything good? Babies are… you know… normal?”

”Physically normal,” she says. ”But you’re their father so I’m not sure normal normal is in the cards,” she jokes with a laugh.

”It could be worse,” I say with a smile. ”They could have my dad… or for that matter my dads dad.”

”No I think we’ll stick with the kinder gentler dumbass,” she says before we fall into a little bit of an awkward silence. Despite everything, she still calls to check up on me. All that has done is prove to me what I thought all along: I never deserved her. ”So… do you want to know what we’re having?”

”If it’s puppies I’mma be so mad,” I joke with a smile. ”I like puppies and all but I was really looking forward to babies.”

”You’re funny sometimes,” she says with a slight pause before dropping the other shoe. ”I almost forgot you had that quality.

“So you wanna know or what?”

”Lay it on me,” I answer with some nervous excitement. On her end, I can see her lifting then shuffling papers about from a manila envelope. ”You didn’t already look?”

”We said we’d look together,” she answers. ”Just because you threw me out of a house you’re not even staying in doesn’t change that.”

”I didn’t throw you out Liz… I just didn’t want to be selfish anymore. Your family needs you.”

”And who do you need?” she asks with some animosity in her tone.

”I’m managing just fine,” a small lie. I am and I’m not.

”Clearly,” she says, mocking me. ”Managing so well that you kicked the one person out of your life that promised they’d never leave you.

“Where are you anyway?”

”Down at the bar at Woolworth,” I answer as I pick up my beer and take a drink.

”Mmmmmmm, tell me how that tastes,” she insists.

”Like cold… hoppy… fizzy...”

”Delicious isn’t it?” she interrupts.

”God yeah,” I answer as I set down the empty bottle and shoot my eyes to the bartender for another.

”Have you talked to Jim at all?” she asks and I shake my head. ”So you push me away and you refuse to talk to your closest confidant, all the while avoiding your gigantic house that’s worth...” she ponders. ”I don’t even know how much that property is worth, but you’re avoiding everything and staying in New York while...”

”I don’t want the lecture,” I interrupt as my second beer arrives.

”...and you’re drinking by yourself. You really are managing well,” she concludes sarcastically.

”Well, I didn’t say it was perfect,” I joke before taking a drink. She throws herself back on her bed in frustration. It’s the first I noticed just how much she’s grown in her time away from me. ”Do you trust me?” I ask of her as she lays defeated.

”Probably way more than I should,” she admits.

”Then trust me that this is the way it has to be,” I plead with her. ”Until I can figure out what the hell is going on inside me, there is no one else.”

”Really?” she asks with a roll of her eyes as she sits up. ”So because you have issues that you need to sort, there’s no Liz or no Frankie or no Jim who’s fucking dying for fucks sake.”

”Frankie is the exception to the rule,” I inform her and take another swallow. ”He comes home when he comes home whether I figure it all out or not.”

”Have you considered what happens if you don’t figure it out?”

”I take my shrink up on his offer of a weed prescription,” I say facetiously. She scoffs and looks at me. ”If I don’t get it figured out, then I’ll find a way to cope with it.”

”You’re doing a smashing job so far.”

”Listen… Liz… I don’t expect you to be happy with this. I just want you to be happy and...”

”And you somehow thought breaking up with me would make me happy? God, you’re such an idiot.”

”I’m not asking you to wait for me if that’s...”

”Let’s move on to seeing what we’re having,” she interrupts curtly. ”Who the hell wants to sleep with a hippo almost seven months pregnant to someone like you?”

”Wait, what’s that mean?”

”It means you’re fucking famous nimrod,” she answers quickly. ”You’re ultra wealthy and have power beyond most people Thad. You have any idea how many guys that scares off?”

”So you’ve tried?” I ask, almost shocked.

”Not exactly. There was a guy at the market that I met and ended up having coffee with and when the subject of whole the hell seeded the demons inside me came up, he suddenly had to go.”

Good.

Loser.

I kid.

(Sorta.)

Wait!

DEMONS!?

What the fuck, woman?

”Well, you’re not always gonna be pregnant, it’s not like you’re from Kentucky or something.”

”Okay babies,” she changes the subject again with a huff as she reaches for a sonogram photo and holds it up so I can see.

”They’re all scrunched up in there,” I say with the inability to stop myself from smiling. ”I wish Frankie could see this.

“I can’t really make heads nor tails of anything though.”

Liz pulls the pic away and looks at it real quick, then points out the obvious.

”See that?” she asks and again I really can’t stop myself from smiling pretty wide. ”That’s your son, stupid.”

”My son,” I repeat her. ”That sounds weird to say.”

”Well brace yourself Thaddeus because tucked in there beside him is your daughter and I soooo can’t wait until she’s a teenager and you have to threaten her boyfriends.”

”Aww man, can I threaten his girlfriends too?”

”Did he decide on Talon yet?” she asks, referring to the boys name. ”Frankie did pick it.”

”Maybe he wants to be Talon?” I suggest. ”Hopefully we get him back...”

”You get him back,” she corrects me.

”...before the babies are born so he can decide on his name before they come.”

”He’s stickin with Francis, Thad, I’m sure of that.”

”Talon it is then,” I conclude before a swallow of beer.

”Talon James,” she interjects causing me to fall silent for a minute. ”He’ll be gone before the babies turn one Thad, don’t you want to memorialize him?”

”Have you talked to Jim?” I ask, ignoring her question.

”Not much. Here and there.”

”Well don’t let on that I know,” I insist to her. ”I don’t want him to tell me because he thinks I know. I want him to tell me when he’s ready to tell me.”

”Gonna be pretty hard considering you’re avoiding him.”

”Anyway I don’t want to talk about that right now,” I say before a quick swallow. ”What about the girl? What are you thinking?”

”Olivia,” she answers quickly. ”For her middle name.”

”What about her first...”

”Caitlyn,” she interrupts, causing me to almost impulsively shed a tear.

My mothers name.

”All things considered Thad, your mother would be proud of the man her son is becoming. Despite whatever the hell is going on with you right now, you’re good. And I know...”

She starts to cry herself.

”I know that you struggle with who and what your father is or was, but you’re not him. You would never be him,” she pauses for a sniffle.

”I know you’re fighting through things because people you love keep disappearing on you,” she pauses a moment to gather her thoughts. ”Just because they leave, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you Thaddeus. Just because they die or are dying, doesn’t mean you can’t still hold a piece of them with you always.”

I had been fighting so hard not to do it since she mentioned James for our sons middle name, but her insistence in giving our daughter my mothers name combined with her caring and loving words behind them, the dam breaks. Hoover Dam. Not once have ever been embarrassed or ashamed of showing my feelings or emotions, but this one is borderline as I lay my head down in the crease of my elbow for a moment and just let it flow.

Tap.

Stifling the rest of my emotion I lift my head up and notice the bartender in front of me. He laid down a shot of something dark amber colored.

”On the house,” he says before turning away.

”Liz?” I call out, returning my attention to my phone and wiping the moisture from my now red and puffy eyes. ”Was I really that pathetic?”

”Ehhhh,” she answers with a little smile as she rocks her hand back and forth as if to say “kinda.”

”You’re about to lose your dad, Liz… Maybe we should name him after your dad?” I offer.

”Uhhh no,” she insists rather quickly causing me to shoot her a look of confusion. ”You really want your son named David Duke?”

For a moment, I hesitate. At first, I’m not sure why that name is a problem until it hits me who David Duke is.

”Fuck that’s a good point. I never even thought about that.”

”Obviously,” she says with a chuckle.

”Can I ask you something?” I ask of her and she nods. Even now I’m unsure if I want to ask. ”Why are you still being so good to me?”

”You’re the father of my children,” she begins to explain. ”Even with everything the way it is, I still love you. Maybe you’ll get your head right and we’ll get back together. Maybe we won’t, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you or the pedestal I have you on.

“Just because we’re apart, doesn’t mean there needs to be hate, Thad.”

Her sincere words get me in my feels. That’s never been difficult but with everything that’s going on with me it only turns my emotional volume up about a thousand notches.

”Liz um...” I begin with a run of my fingers through my hair. ”I’m uh… I’m gonna go.”

She sighs deeply with a sniffle.

”Will you take some advice from me?” she asks and I don’t answer her. Instead, I just look at her through the phone. ”It doesn’t matter to me who it is, what matters is you and your well-being. Find someone up there, anyone, let them in on what you’re going through. Let yourself lean on somebody.”

Sitting quietly for what seems like an eternity as I ponder her heartfelt advice, ”I’m gonna go,” I say quietly before ending the call.

Alone in this bar with no one but the bartender to keep me company, I consider Elizabeth’s advice. Leaning on others isn’t something I’m really that accustomed to. I’m the rock, I’m the put together one, I’m the one people lean on. I’m not good at being vulnerable. I’m not good at being weak. My life, my day job, my XWF job, they require strength. They require resolve. They require a level headed clarity that I just don’t have right now and I don’t know if leaning on anyone and selfishly burdening them with my issues is the right thing to do.

The veritable TOURNAME TOUR continues!

What the fuck, Derrick? Get your hands on this shit.

No doubt there’s people looking at me and Warfare and rolling their eyes and thinking I’m a dumbass. Here’s the facts: I’ve had my eyes on the Hart Championship since the moment I stepped foot back in this company last summer. I missed that stop on my path to the Universal title and now that I’m not saddled with any other title or any other endless war in the ring, I figured it was time to circle back and pick up the piece of gold I missed.

Ned Kaye thinks he holds some ace up his sleeve by thinking either, one: I wouldn’t be stupid enough to accept a handicap match as a prerequisite for being able to challenge for the Hart title or two: that even if I did accept that stipulation, I’d be a sitting duck facing the vaunted tag team of Eobard Stone and Steven Cooper.

I use the term ‘vaunted’ rather loosely.

In case you haven’t noticed fellas, I’m not that easy to take down.

In case you haven’t noticed fellas, I’ve been beaten down by bigger, badder, better enemies and even tag team combinations and I just… keep… getting… up.

In case you haven’t noticed fellas, I don’t back down from anyone.

Ned, throw whatever you want at me. Throw whomever you want at me. The fact of the matter is while the odds shouldn’t be in my favor, I still like my chances far better than I like theirs. The simple fact that you even went this route tells me that you have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with. You have no fucking clue just who the hell I am. It’s clear to me that you see the smiling face and the catering to the Universe, and you somehow think it’s a weakness.

Do not mistake my kindness for weakness.

When the bell rings, I have no kindness. There is no give, only take.

The fact of the matter is that when I have my focus on something, when I desire to achieve something, there’s really not much that can stop me. Since my re-emergence from the shadows last summer, I’ve won everything that I’ve set out to win and the Hart Championship will be no different.

That’s good news for me. Bad news for Avalanche.

It’s a shame really, that I’m gonna have to teach these XWF upstarts what it means to play in the big leagues. It’s a shame that at Leap of Faith, I’ll have to teach Ned Kaye what it means to play in the big leagues. He should know by now but obviously taking short cuts in order to feel special, to feel like he belongs, to feel like he achieved something… only for me to take it all away from him.

I’m comin’ to Seattle with my shot at the Hart title on the line. It’s the only title left that really means a damn, that I’ve never held and I plan on rectifying that little problem here in short order. It’s a shame though, that in order to do it, I’ll have to pound Cooper and Stone into the mat so fucking hard that Eobard will wish he was back in that high school locker room.

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