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The Engineer · (11-22-2017)

We join your Xtreme champion and mine as he sits on a leather couch in a living room that bears all the hallmarks of upper middle class civility. A grandfather clock stands as guardian in the corner, and at first its gentle noises are all that separate us from complete awkward silence. Over the distance of a coffee table with a Hobby Lobby centerpiece, a 50ish white couple sit on another couch facing Engy. The woman, a straw haired blonde who was probably quite attractive back in the day, bears a telltale Xanax stare of someone who's probably a touch overprescribed. The man, sandyhaired and just slightly paunchy, looks more lucid.

Mr. Bright, we want to thank you for coming. I understand your busy with your campaign and your, erm....wrestling.

It's no problem at all Mr. Lahren. This must be a difficult time for the both of you and when I pledge my help I mean it sincerely.

Mr. Lahren, canting his head as though placated, smiles.

I must say, you're certainly a far cry from the character you play on TV.

It is definitely a stretch sometimes, doing what I do. But hey, somebody's gotta be the weirdo.

Engy launches into a good natured chuckle which Mr. Lahren shares belatedly. His wife continues to sit stock still, unreacting.

I'll cut right to it then. Tomi is still missing, and the police still have nothing.

I know. I still check in periodically for updates. But I've already spoken to the police, given statements...

We know, we know. But, we were just wondering if there was....anything else. Anything. I....we just don't know where else to turn and...

He trails off, and his wife brings a hankerchief up to her mouth to stifle a small sob.

If there was anything, believe me, I'd tell ya. Look, Tomi was...not herself, in the end. The drugs, the drinking...it was out of control....

Mrs. Lahren blurts out a sharper sob and leaves the room abruptly. Engy watches her go.

Sorry, that was shitty. I shouldn't have said all that.

It's alright. It's the truth. Neither of us have quite come around to accepting it but, she just wasn't our Tomi anymore. You think you know someone, your own flesh and blood. And it's hard, you know? You ask yourself every goddamn day why she never came to us for help. Why she wasn't comfortable coming to us. What did we do? What did we do wrong?

His voice is plaintive, borderline pleading. Engy shakes his head, lips pulled into a solemn frown.

I shouldn't....you're hurting too....

Yeah, it still does. Heh, I know you don't watch that garbage, but in the XWF I'm running this angle with a woman named Jenny Myst. A romance angle, big pay off to this crush I had on her for a long time. And do you know how many times I meant to say “Jenny” and said “Tomi”? I can't even tell you how many takes I blew. Tomi's still with me. As bad as things got between us in the end, I think a part of her will always be with me.

And sometimes, I blame myself too. I wonder if I shouldn't have never got her on camera with me. Made her part of The Engineer's world. All that debauchery, that darkness. It makes me....

Engy looks off into the distance.

We can blame ourselves till we're blue in the face Dexter. It doesn't accomplish anything.

But it's human, sir. It's only natural to blame yourself when you let something as beautiful and unique as Tomi slip through your fingers.

Mr. Lahren's stoic mask cracks, and a tear slips forth. Dexter rises and walks over to him, placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulder.

Stay strong, sir.

LATER...

We return to the Engineer who is...well, it's impossible to tell where exactly he is. He's seated in a cheap folding chair, but around him a number of full length mirrors encircle him, reflecting visions of him at various angles. The mirrors themselves are a hodgepodge of likely thrift store finds, and some of them even have cracks or bends to the glass, lending the whole scene a bizarre fun house like effect.

Okay, so I lied to the Lahrens. Might seem a bit hypocritical given how I was spouting off last time, Jenny. But my pants are indeed on fire.

Engy looks as though he is about to casually continue, but then sits bolt upright in his chair, like he just remembered he left the oven on or something.

Oh shit, let me be clear! I don't know what happened to Tomi! Heh heh. I meant that I was lying about none of this being real. The XWF. The pay per views. The violence. Mike the bearded dragon. The whole shabang. It may surprise you to learn Jenny that “out there”, a lot of people still think this is fake. Frankly, that's for the best. The Lahrens and people like them? They're good people. Normal people. Salt of the Earth people. It would shatter them to learn that this little lawless bastion of hell on Earth psychodrama is the real deal.

But to me, that is such an interesting concept Jenny. Reality, I mean. Specifically, what IS and what ISN'T. What's actual and what's illusion, and just how much of ourselves that we allow the world to see is truth. You got that particular ball rolling, didn't you? Telling us all about the sexed up Barbie you used to be and how that wasn't authentically you. And for the record, I like this you a whole lot better. But it begs the question once more, how much of what you're showing me NOW is the real you? You said there was still so much more about you we had yet to uncover, right?

I guess what I'm trying to say is where exactly does the rubber meet the road with Jenny Myst? Where does the character end and the honest to God living breathing human begin? Or, is this it? Is what I see what I get?

I don't think so.

The Engineer shakes his head, which is again slightly disorienting given all the different myriad angles on him.

This still isn't you Jenny. Your playing a role. And do you know how I know that? Because you're overselling it, Jenny. Now hold on, hold on! Don't get upset! This isn't trash talk. Think of this as more of a plea. I'm begging you to drop the pretense because, frankly, you're not all that good at it.

I mean, ok, here's the deal love. You want everyone to think you're the baddest bitch around. Yeah sure, you leave in a touch of vulnerability here and there to keep it interesting, but for the most part you are this insurmountable wave of ego and anger. Your losses never seem to humble you. And, aside from me, nobody ever really seems to earn your respect. You casually treat everyone around you with enormous disdain, even that poor girl getting your coffee. But the fact is, even the biggest badasses need friends. Or at the very least, loyal servants. Take it from me, I'm a real live King. But I will openly admit that even I NEED people. I NEED the Motherfuckers to help me take down the Kings. For a time, I NEEDED Madison (for all her faults) to keep my head on straight.

If all you do is alienate people, you're not breeding respect. You're breeding FEAR. And fear and anger, they're a MARRIED couple sweetheart. You think every time you dress one of your assistants down that they're not seriously considering havin' a whizz in your next Mocha Latte? My point is this...it's all wrong. It's TOO MUCH.

Another point: you talk constantly about how everyone is beneath you. Hell, you even said there was no way that I could beat you! That's not realistic either. I don't care how dominant you are, and once again take it from me as I've been pretty damn dominant (#NoSinglesLossesEVER)....every single person recognizes and respects fellow talent. Jim Caedus is on my shit list right now, but I don't care how much flagrantly hypocritical horse shit spills out of his trap, I will always ALWAYS acknowledge the man as a threat. He CAN beat me, and the fact that he did not in the past is no reason for me to assume he is incapable of doing so in the future.

Do you know why I think that way, Jenny? Because it's SMART. Smart people recognize and respect threats. Because when you don't, you get overconfident. You get SLOPPY. And maybe, just maybe, that's why it took you a few tries to grab the reigns in your own division. It's not weakness to acknowledge a threat, and that's something this persona you guise yourself with has never seemed to get past.

And yes, I said PERSONA. Because I truly believe, in my heart of hearts, the real Jenny Myst...the honest to God Jenny Myst that stays up late sometimes binging Netflix with a gallon of Chunky Monkey in her PJ's, that Jenny Myst is not the foolish caricature you parade about in front of the cameras. The shit that Madison and everyone else hates on you for, it's not authentically you. It can't be. Because...well....because I have faith that you're better than that. That you're not this all consuming bitchy storm if narcissistic ignorance who alienates people because she CAN and is incapable of recognizing that a mine field is not devoid of further threats just because you successfully stepped over a few.

The Engineer leans forward in his seat.

I'm not trying to be a DICK, Jenny. Really, I'm not. I'm just begging you to ditch this carnival funhouse version of yourself and be real with me. Be honest with me. Love me unconditionally if you can without trying to twist up my feelings and fuck with my head. You're better than the mask you present to the world. And I think you and I can be better together.

Engy draws in and releases a sigh. He looks at one of his reflections in a broken mirror, and it distorts his face into a pinched black hole. He then returns his gaze to the camera.

So now that we're being honest with ourselves, it would behoove me to answer your big question, the one I was remiss in answering before. An Xtreme championship bout is the albatross hanging over both our heads, and your burning question was: what is more important to me, you or the Xtreme championship. Here is my honest answer.

YOU.

Engy throws out his hands and does a “jazz hands” motion.

That is the sound of Apex and the Kings popping huge raging boners at the thought of all the promo material I just gave them. But it's the truth. If it comes down to you or the title, I pick you. A championship is temporary. I acknowledge that someday somebody will catch me on a bad day and take it. It could even be you.

But a meaningful life long connection with another person? That can be forever. WE can be forever Jenny.

BUT! Yes, there is a BUT. I will NOT under ANY circumstances throw our match. I will not cave into the transparent manipulation that you tried to use on me to gain an edge. Number one, because as I said I don't think that's the real you, and number two, throwing the match disrespects you as a woman and a competitor.

You will fight me for this title. It will not be easy. But at the end of the day, win or lose, it is my sincere hope that we can forge something special. Something authentic. Something REAL. Fuck all the haters. Every last one. I see something in your that is greater than the sum of the parts that you deign to show us.

There. My heart is bared for all the world to see. Main and Caedus can shit on it. Theo and Doc can....well, LITERALLY shit on it....but I don't care.

ENGY LOVES HIM SOME JENNY MYST.

And that is something I could not possibly lie about.

One of the mirrors just behind him cracks and the glass drops to the floor. The Engineer doesn't even flinch. But just before the glass split, something flashed inside it's clouded defaced visage. A scene of a woman in a flowing white dress under the water. A scene of strange beauty. The kind of beauty that can never be false.

A fish was nibbling on Tomi's eye. You may have missed it. If you weren't quick enough.

[Image: 4333a91c603fc83f5a5cd1ae8184f202--underw...-ideas.jpg]

[Image: 4333a91c603fc83f5a5cd1ae8184f202--underw...-ideas.jpg]

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