Backstage of the Tokyo Dome -sometime during March Madness: IV

Following Dolly’s floating-like exit from the locker room, the madness and arguing that swelled like a bubbling froth atop a stove burner simmered down, leaving only a scent of reflective hush lingering about. Arms are folded, shoulders are shrugged, polished wingtips are kicking at imaginary trash. All of this while a detached looking R.L. Edgar sits quietly on a black metal folding chair, practicing the breathing technique he learned from his A.A. sponsor.

A sudden laugh slices the silence when Ari Silverstein shows Vinnie Lane a picture of his girlfriend. Ari humps and ass-waxes the air. A shake of the head from Theo Pryce is followed by the entire locker room emptying out, leaving only Edgar behind. There was a touch on Edgar’s shoulder, and a few words of encouragement passed from Vinnie Lane, but nothing heavy enough to tip the scale of his attention.

Intermentiment echoes of thunderous roars from the Tokyo Dome crowd reverberated the walls of the locker room. Edgar lays his head back, rolling it around his shoulders and pinching at the bridge of his nose. He can’t focus long enough to thoughtfully practice his meditation, in fact, he was starting to question the whole process anyhow. Afterall, it was this meditation that led him to believe he’d find a Higher Power in his niece Dolly.

What a joke.

Edgar could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he was too terrified to check his notifications. He knew it was just the frothy sentiments of one disappointed contact or the other; most notably his children, who’d grown all too accustomed to watching their father fail in such miserable fashion.

But the phone continued to vibrate, the light of the screen glowing through his mesh wrestling shorts. Edgar’s sigh rumbles across the roof of his mouth and then growls through his teeth while pinching he skin on the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes even tighter. All he could think about was how he would explain away the embarrassing loss that he just suffered at the hands of Ringmaster -jeez, what a fucking name- and Rampage -a laundromat arcade game-. The easy out was to blame his niece Dolly and her inability to show even the slightest level of interest in their match. But truth be told, he knew his performance was just as lacking.

Without looking Edgar pulls the phone from his pocket and slides his thumb across the screen.

Yeah?

He answers, pulling the phone up to his ear,

Wow, Reggie! You looked like shit out there.

It’s Jason. Edgar’s sponsor. His squeaky, high-pitched voice stabbed into Edgar’s eardrums. It brings the despondent wrestler’s face to a twisting wince, his unwilling eyes bursting open as he pulls the phone back away from his ear.

Goddamn man.

Hey! I’m just teasing.

Jason’s voice vibrates through the tiny speaker,

The most important thing is that you’re okay. Are you okay?

Edgar’s neck bends sideways, his mouth slanting with a sarcastic curl as if his body language can be read over the phone.

Oh, let's see. I just looked like a total asshole in front of millions of wrestling fans world-wide, and most importantly my bosses. My ex fiance is still living in my house and fucking another man. And I just dropped on my neck by some bodybuilder freak in his first ever XWF match. Yeah. I’m just peachy, Jason.

But did you drink today?

...no. But I’d sure like to right about now.

Well, acknowledge it or not, but a small miracle has occurred in Tokyo. A raging alcoholic who at one time drank in the face of even the most minuet problems, is staying sober even in complete embarrassment.

A miracle huh? Maybe I just haven’t found my way to the liquor store yet.

Reggie, if you really wanted to drink you would’ve by now. Did being near a liquor store ever stop you before?

Per the usual Jason was right, and per the usual it kind of pissed Edgar off. But reflecting back, Edgar could remember a time shortly after falling to Chris Page in a Universal Championship match, and he could remember the souring splash on his tongue from the bottle of Johnny Walker he had waiting for him in his locker backstage. It always helped ease the nerves.

What did you do this time?

I dont know… I guess I just kept quiet and tried to breathe.

And how much did you damage your body by getting quiet and breathing? How many people did you harm?

And then something dawned on Edgar. A truth he hadn’t told yet.

Well, actually… I didn’t stay entirely quiet. I might’ve said some mean things about Dolly.

Well, that’s probably at least natural, if not totally warranted. And the big thing is that you’re recognizing it, and coming clean.

Yeah. Feels kinda bad. Afterall I pretty much begged her to team up with me.

And the only reason you said nasty things about her is because you were afraid of how she made YOU look.

Selfish, huh?

We alcoholics are selfish people. But recognizing where that selfishness comes from is key in being rid of it…

...

Did she hear you?

Edgar thought back to the moments just before Dolly got up and left the locker room. It wasn’t just Edgar, but everyone in there verbally bashing her. Still though, she didn’t react, and did little to indicate that she was even paying attention at all. Almost as if the first thing she did when she got back to the locker room was what Edgar tried to do- keep quiet and breathe.

If she did, she sure didn’t react to it. Everyone was sort of piling up on her over our performance in the ring, and I guess I kinda’ deflected the blame over onto her.

Well, she DID look like shit too. But the thing is, you’re sitting backstage now probably feeling bad and worrying about what Dolly thinks of you, and she may not even realize that you were upset with her. A lot of times we build up these molehills into mountains. They tower over us and feel insurmountable until we have no choice but to either drink at it, or face our fears of being honest. But in reality the person, or the thing we’re most afraid of may not even realize that-

Uncle Edgar?

R.L. pulls the phone into his chest and looks at the doorway of the locker room. Just as quietly as she had made her exit earlier, Dolly has returned and is leaning in the doorway, holding a thermos in her hand.

Hey, Dolly. Look I’m sor-

I’m sorry for letting you down out there. I haven’t been myself ever since-

-since the warehouse in Frankfort.

Edgar finishes her thought while rising to his feet,

Right, and truth be told I don’t even know why I agreed to team with you. I ain’t in no condition to be wrestling. I guess it just felt good to be sought after again, ya know? Same way I agreed to take part in Lacklan’s tournament.

Edgar quickly pulls the phone up to his ear, Jason, I’ll have to call you back, he says before hanging up and walking closer to his niece.

I think I know exactly what you mean. Edgar’s mind raced immediately to his current living situation with his ex fiancé, Marie. He thought about the weird dynamic that still exists between them, and how at times she’ll breadcrumb him with empty showings of affection that fill him with hope that someday the fences of their relationship will be mended. Her telling him how much she loves him, her throwing her body on his. The random neck rubs, the ‘I miss you’s, the kisses, the almost seamless way that they still operate as a functioning couple in private, only for her to leave their family every night and lay in the arms of another man. Thinking that he might have made Dolly feel this same sense of false hope, this hollow token of being desired, made Edgar’s stomach turn. I shouldn’t have tried using you as a way to build myself back up.

Meh, it’s okay. she grins, flipping some sweaty bangs from infront of her face, it only made YOU look dumber. Heck I’ve been a perpetual letdown for my entire “career” a heavy eye-roll accompanied that last word.

Edgar sighs and shakes his head, nudging his niece in the shoulder with an encouraging fist, But c’mon kid. You’re SO much more talented than I am.

Like that’s saying a lot. No offense.

Edgar just shrugs with a nonchalant agreement,

I mean when you’re right, you’re right.

There’s a warm silence that follows, as the two relatives smile at one another. There’s not a lot to be said, but plenty that each are feeling as a new level of comfort and bond is beginning to build between them in their shared state of fragility. There’s another thundering roar of the crowd, and the faint sound of the ring announcer proclaiming a victory for the tag team champions Mark Flynn and North Korean War Criminal out in the arena. The sound gathers each of their attentions for a moment before Edgar begins to ask: So… you wanna go watch the rest of the show, like the good old common folks that we-

Let me make it up to you!

Dolly interrupts, while Edgar’s face pleads with a loving humility,

Oh you don’t have to-

No. I’m serious. Let me make this up to you.

You said it yourself, you’re in no condition to be wrestling.

I believe I have a solution for that… she joyfully proclaims, holding up the thermos in her hand and giving it a good shake, What the hell is that? Sounds lumpy, and I feel like I can smell it through the container.

Just some liquefied gratitude. A much appreciated gesture. Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul if you will.

Oh god. Don’t tell me you’ve been reading self help books.

Dolly smiles and brushes aside the comment, If you want my help, I’ll give you everything I have. I don’t really know what all that is anymore, but we might be able to put together something special.

You really think so?

I mean… not overnight, no. Probably not even over the next month. But it’s one thing to not try, and go out and lose to people you could’ve beat had you have tried-

Edgar’s eyes lower as motions his index finger back and forth, trying to follow along with Dolly’s complicated sentence structure,

-and it’s another thing to go out there and give it your best shot against people you can’t beat.

You mean like the upper-half of the roster.

Mmmm-yea, probably. BUT! If we keep working hard, you never know, right? I mean after all, it’s not like neither of us have never had success in the ring. You damn near won the Universal Championship. I damn near won WarGames. But things for us just went a little…

Sideways?

Dolly snaps her finger, and then points at Edgar, That’s the one! Sideways.

So what are you suggesting?

That it’s time to let go of the things we’ve held onto. She says, unscrewing the lid to the thermos. Edgar’s eyes immediately well-up at the steamy rancid scent lifting from inside, Maybe you’ve gotta get knocked down a few times first, but maybe this is how we find out what REALLY matters in making a tag-team good team.

Liquified Gratitude?

He gags the words out, covering his nose and mouth with his shirt.

Mhmm.

Former:
1x Hart Champion
1x Federweight Champion
April 2021 RP Of The Month Still Waters Run Deep