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The Collector · (06-25-2020)

Dr. Lewis DeVille’s Office
(Not the LEGEND)
Midtown Manhattan

”I lie here staring at the ceiling, counting the dots on the cheap drop ceiling tiles as I await my next appointment. I feel like I’ve been here for at least an hour when in reality, it’s been maybe five or ten whole minutes. I don’t like waiting. Anticipation sets my anxiety into overdrive and then it’s hard to get out of my own head. Inside my head isn’t somewhere I’d wish any person to be. Least of all me.

“748.

“That’s how many dots are on each tile. I worried that I might have been wrong so I counted the one next to it too. Also 748.

“Out of boredom, I start playing with the switch on my mask. On. Off. On. Off. Over and over. The suspense is killing me inside and I have no outlet. For these appointments, I never carry my cell. I have this odd habit of being unable to ignore it. If I get a notification for any reason: text, email, update notification, what have you, I HAVE to see it and I HAVE to clear it.

“I don’t know why.”

”What are you doing?” asks the doctor as he walks in. I SAY walks in but he’s sitting behind his desk and now I’m confused.

”What do you mean?” I answer back with a question of my own as I sit up on this stupid uncomfortable lounger thingy.

”You’re thinking out loud,” he replies. ”Is it possible to take off the mask so that I can see the real Jameson Henry?”

I was thinking out loud again. Fuck me.

”Can’t,” I respond, pointing to the XWF cameras.

Doc sighs.

How long have I been here? How long has HE been sitting there? Has he been trying to reach me this entire time but I was stuck inside my own head completely oblivious to his presence?

”We could solve that problem by not permitting the cameras in during our sessions,” he offers. Of course, he has a point, but, what if the cameras miss some quality content simply because my head is a mess?

”They stay. The mask stays on.”

”You go by Jameson Henry, but you’re not, are you?”

I sit in silence, waiting for him to elaborate.

”Grandson to New York Kingpin Alister Henry,” he states. ”But you’re not Jameson Henry. Jameson Henry doesn’t have a birth certificate. No social security number.

“Nothing.

“It’s simply an alias.

“Try as you might, Jaime Henry does not exist.”

”As long as I breathe life into him, he exists, Doc.”

”Fair enough, but why? That’s the question that needs answered.”

”The name gives me a life I never had. It gives me the opportunity to live a normal life, or at least something the resembles a normal life, outside the eyes and ears of those who know me.

“The real me.

“The man beneath the mask.”

”I know who you are beneath that mask, Jaime,” he reminds me. ”You don’t think you can quit all the things that make you miserable and just lead a normal existence without donning a mask and disassociating yourself from who you really are?”

”I know I can’t.”

”Why Jaime Henry then? Why not move to New Zealand and adopt Joe Smith as a name and just buy a house and start a family?”

I don’t answer the question. I sit on the lounger thingy and play with the light switch on my mask.

”Why Alister Henry? His life isn’t a life that good, decent people, which you are beneath that mask, want to lead.”

”He’s my grandfather. Sure, he may have some ties to the criminal underground...” that’s putting it mildly.

”Some ties?

“Jaime, he’s been the most influential man in the ‘criminal underground’ as you call it, since John Gotti.

“Or Donald Trump, depending on who you ask.”

”Okay, but like… you can’t choose your family, ya know?”

”But you did, in this case. You chose to find Alister Henry and you chose him to be a part of your life that for the first twenty years of it, you weren’t even aware of his existence and he didn’t know of yours.”

”Doc with all due respect, I was fully aware that I had and still have unknown family out there. It sort of comes with the territory when your mother was adopted at birth.”

He sighs with exasperation.

”I feel we’ve reached an impasse,” he states as he sets his notebook down on his desk. ”You won’t admit who you are publicly and that’s fine. You do know who you are and I know who you are.

“I’ve followed your path even before you ever stepped foot in my office.

“Alister Henry and his life isn’t who you are. This role you’re playing as his Collector isn’t who you really are.”

I sit quietly with my fingers clasped and I stare at the floor.

”What if it is who I am?” I ask him. Doc sits quietly for a moment pondering. ”What if the person that wears the mask is the real me? The guy beneath, his life isn’t something I ever wanted. It was chosen FOR me by things way outside of my control.

“Or yours.

“Or anybodies.

“For better or for worse, Doc… I enjoy my work now. I enjoy my life now. Yeah, I have to do some unsavory things from time to time, but its just business. The marks know that.”

”If this Jameson Henry persona is who you think you are inside, then you wouldn’t need to wear the mask to hide your true identity.”

And now I sit in silence. I mean, he isn’t exactly wrong, is he? If there was a way to merge the two, maybe I’d do it. But as soon as I take off this mask, the Collector is gone.

Jaime Henry ceases to exist.

All that’s left is the life I never wanted. The life I have been trying to escape. The life I’ve spent my years running from.

”What about your other life? Your friends and your family. Do they even know you anymore?”

Truth is… Not even I really know me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love those in my life. My friends and family, but I haven’t figured out how to reconcile my real life and the life I lead as Jaime Henry. Until I do, I will have no contact with them if I can help it. The mask stays on and Jameson Henry lives.

I miss them though.

So fucking much.

I lay back on the uncomfortable lounger thingy and stare up at the tiles again. ”Okay Doc, my head is a disaster and I want to fuck my grandmother.

“Go.”

”Your grandmother, you say?” he inquires.

”Yep,” I answer quickly. ”She’s like 30 and smokin’ hot.”

”She’s not biological?”

”Seriously?” I snap back. ”How many 30 year olds do you know that are natural grandmothers to 21 year olds?”

”We’re just sorting things out, Jaime, there’s no need to get upset,” he replies. ”Your grandmother...” he continues.

”Elizabeth. Lizzy.”

”Is she aware you find her attractive?”

”I let it slip just before dinner yesterday.”

”Verbal thoughts again?”

”You really are a quick study, aren’t you Doc?”

”Did you just do it again?”

I ponder his question for a short few seconds.

”Sure did.” Nope.

He sighs again and starts writing in his notebook.

”What was the reaction? From her, from your grandfather.”

”I think he was threatening me… but I’m not sure. Not entirely at least.”

”And… Lizzy?”

”Well I went into the kitchen to apologize to her for blurting it out...”

”Did she accept it?”

”She said if circumstances were different she might have married the hot grandson.”

”Hmmmm.”

I sit straight up on the lounger.

”What Doc?”

”It’s nothing,” he replies. ”Go on.”

”No! I’ve seen enough movies to know that when a shrink says ‘hmmm’ it’s never just ‘nothing.’ I don’t like ‘hmmm.’ What is ‘hmmm?’”

”I just find it interesting. That’s all.”

”Not the word I would use,” I state as I lie back again.

”Really? You don’t think leading four lives is interesting?”

”Two at best.”

”The life of which you will not speak… yet, Jameson Henry, The Collector for Alister Henry, The Collector the professional wrestler.

“Four by my count.”

”They’re not all different.”

”We’re getting off track.”

”Pap was in the doorway, man. I don’t know if he heard her say that or not.”

”What happened at dinner?”

”We ate in an awkward silence.”

Very awkward, if I’m being honest.

”Your family- they never question the use of the mask?”

”Pap hates it,” I reply. ”He thinks it’s ridiculous.”

”And Elizabeth?”

”Never mentions it.”

”Is it possible that in the kitchen, she just didn’t want you to be embarrassed?”

I start to speak, but no words come out. I mean, she’s a really sweet woman, I guess its highly possible, maybe even probable that she just said that to ease my shame and awkwardness. For what it’s worth, it really didn’t work.

She really should work on that.

”Let’s shift gears if we can, to your choice of entrance music,” Doc says before I stand up. ”What’s wrong?”

”I fear you suffer from ADD… or ADHD or something.”

He doesn’t respond.

I could have predicted as much.

”This session is over. You want me to talk about this, and then that, and then you wanna change the subject to something else entirely. Something so insignificant as my song choice for my wrestling entrance.”

”Is it insignificant?”

”I’ve wrestled Doctor D’Ville. I’ve beaten Doctor D’Ville.

“You sir, are NO Doctor D’Ville!”

I left. I got out of there right away and I didn’t even pay the check.

...I’ll take care of it next week, probably.

”Does anyone besides me think it’s odd that Big D is thinking about some twink named Thad Duke when he’s about to love on his wife? I mean, the kid was great, let’s be honest. A bit of a headcase, but still, uber talented and fun to watch. Clearly, Big D has a case of the man hots, a man crush, if you will, for Thaddeus Duke. I mean, who could blame him?

“If anyone sees him, ask him if he still plans on taking his D game to Wrestlestock… In the age of #MeToo, Big D should maybe consider his word choices a little better. Clearly, he intends to fuck the competition.

“Anyway, Gage Gannon. I’ll admit, I’m a fan. I don’t KNOW the guy, but I like his attitude. I like him coming at me. It’s fun. I fuckin’ missed this. I like the confidence in himself and his ability that he oozes.

“Thing is, he sounds a little over confident.

“He honestly thinks he can get in MY head? Gage, trust me on this if you COULD get into my head you’d run like hell and cry to your dead momma. My head is not somewhere I’d wish even my worst enemy to take up residence. Even I don’t want to be in my head. Clearly. Evidenced by the scene you just saw. Scene you saw? Scene you just witnessed.

“Try as you might, Gage, but you will never make me doubt my ability. You do not have the power to hurt my confidence. You look at me and you see a guy in a mask in over his head right? Fact is, I’ve been down the road a thousand times in various companies and I have yet to face anyone that I ever doubted that I could beat. I’m not starting with you. Ain’t no one better than me Gage, certainly not you. If you plan to devour me at Warfare, you might wanna bring your Golden Corral buffet pants bitch boy, because when you’re flat on your back and the ref counts to ten, you’re gonna have a shit ton of crow to eat.

“Just so we’re clear on something, you shouldn’t have to wonder what’s coming in a match. Any real competitor, anyone that can truly back up all their mind numbing shit talking that they do, should already know what’s coming. Despite being Gods gift to the wrestling world like you obviously believe that you are, you should know enough to know what’s coming.

“You don’t need to say this match will be competitive. I don’t need your validation to know just how mother fucking good I really am. When I’ve embarrassed you on world wide television I don’t need you to acknowledge that I am better than you. I’ll prove it. In front of millions. And you can go back to your little corner of the world and pretend what we do isn’t a game.

“Check mate mother fucker. You got suckered in like the idiot little pawn you are in my game of chess. Didn’t your dead momma ever tell you not to bring checkers when the game is chess and your opponent is clearly smarter than you?”

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