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Thaddeus Duke · (09-28-2019)

5:13 PM | The Acevedo Residence | Memphis, Tennessee

Garrett was nervous about me meeting his family. His Aunt Debbie and Uncle Mike were hippies in their past. Free love. Free spirit. Lots of drugs. You know the type. Uncle Mike was a hardworking man in home construction and Aunt Debbie was a homemaker. They had a whole bunch of kids, like 5 or something, so they didn’t have a lot of money.

They live modesty, which is what Garrett was worried about. He thought I’d look down upon them because of their lack of financial security, but I’ll tell you this: some of the best, most authentic people in this world are those of modest means. Most people, and this is especially true the more affluent you are, people are more interested in what you can do for them.

Their kids, Eli, Jake, Melanie, Evie and Mike Junior are all moved out and spreading their families love. Uncle Mike and Aunt Debbie live in a one story ranch style house with 3 bedrooms and 1 and a half baths. Where Garrett was worried what I might think of them, I on the other hand, am actually kind of excited. I never had to live by limited means so it interests me quite a bit to experience this. What’s more is I’ve never judged anyone by their less fortunate social status. These Acevedo’s, what they lack in financial stability, they more than make up for with their sense of family and kinship, their acceptance and support, their love and kindness. They may not have thousands or even hundreds in a savings account, but in a lot of ways they’re the richest family I’ve ever met.

It amazes me though, how two people from the same family, the same generation, the same parents can be utterly, completely, entirely different people. Aunt Debbie is Garrett’s fathers sister. Garrett’s father is a giant douche canoe. Aunt Debbie? She’s gentle. Kind. Warm. Loving.

”Thaddeus, I’m Mike Acevedo, this is my wife Debbie,” Mike says, greeting us from the front door of his home.

”I’m so happy to meet you guys, really,” I say, trying not to seem to excited but also not seem put off.

”Garrett, guys, c’mon in! Make yourselves at home!”

Uncle Mike seems genuinely excited to have us here.

”I know its not what you’re used to boys,” she says, her Long Island New York accent while decades removed, is still thick. ”But it’s what we got. Please sit. Tell us about your boyfriend Garrett.”

….

For fucks sake!

”Uhhh, no, Aunt Deb, you got it wrong. Thad’s not my boyfriend. He’s my best friend though.”

”Well, who knows? Maybe it’ll develop into more one day.”

”I’m straight.”

”So am I, but that never stopped me.”

W

T

ACTUAL

F

!

”Kids today are obsessed with labels. Who’s gay? Who’s straight? Who’s trans? Who’s conservative or liberal? Who’s racist or not?

“Boys, I promise you, none of it matters. Be who you are. Be proud of who you are. You’re the only you that exists and life is far too short to not be yourself.”

”Ok but really, we’re just friends.”

”You never… experimented a little?”

These people are very... forward. Garrett and I look at each other and shake our heads, answering her question.

”I can see you guys are uncomfortable so… Gar tell me about my brother and your mother.”

”What’s to tell?” he asks, shying away from the question and trying to shrink into invisibility into the sofa.

”My brother is a jerk. His wife is a total cunt if you ask me,” she states.

Very outspoken indeed.

”Garrett you listen to me. My brother is a hateful little creature and he always was. Even before you came out, he never loved you the way he should have. Treating you almost like an afterthought.”

I can see the emotion boiling inside him. His lip begins to quiver as he struggles and ultimately fails to hold back tears. For the first time in our friendship, I think I understand him. I understand now, what has caused him to be such a dick sometimes. I understand now why he wanted to come here to this modest, loving home. I understand the hurt and the pain he feels inside… I’ve felt it too.

”Honey,” she says as she gets up from her chair to sit between us and comfort her nephew. ”You have a home here if you ever want it. You have love here. You have the acceptance you’re searching for here.”

She holds him tight and he lets loose, bawling like a baby in her arms. I think, maybe, if he moved here he might just make it. Too often, kids like him, they don’t understand their own thoughts and struggles and they wind up succumbing to the demons of confusion and they do the only thing they can think of to stop the hurt and stop the pain. They end their lives, leaving the family they left behind to act all confused and betrayed as if they were some gigantic support group when really, they only contributed to the horrible act by wrongly believing that boys and girls should behave a certain way… react a certain way… love a certain way.

If I said this scene in front of me didn’t cause me to let go of a few tears myself, I’d be lying. Kids struggling is the hardest part of my life and I see it everywhere. I see it in the crowds at XWF shows on the faces of hundreds kids. I see it at meet and greets. I see it on television. I may be a kid at heart, but if there was one thing, if I had one wish, it’d be to end the struggles kids and teens face.

I’ll tell you right now, they may not have any money but their unconditional love and support that they showed to one of my best friends, it didn’t go unnoticed by me. I don’t know if he’s ever been suicidal or not but he’s definitely not right now.

After dinner, which was rigatoni and meatballs, we all sat around the kitchen and played some rummy while shooting the breeze. They asked a lot about my life and if I’m totally honest, I’m a little uncomfortable talking about it to people I don’t really know. It’s really hard to believe that I’m not yet 21 but I lead a nation, I’ve won a few wars, I go to high school AND I’m also a professional wrestler. Yet they seemed genuinely interested and I’m so happy to have met these people.

By ten that evening we’re all pretty bushed. Yeah they have three bedrooms but one is used for storage so Garrett and I had to share the spare bedroom. I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t fucking care.

The next morning is the start of Pride and you know that initially I was pretty hesitant about accompanying Garrett to this thing, but now I’m fuckin’ excited. I’m overwhelmed with pride, no pun intended, that Garrett chose me to experience this with him. He chose me to stand beside him and support his journey. I had shirts, bandanas and wristbands all made for this and I’ll admit, I look pretty fuckin’ sweet decked out in this rainbow shit.

After breakfast it was time to head into town for the festivities. Where a couple of weeks ago I was a little nervous about it, today I’m totally stoked. I am blissfully excited to walk the streets with my homie. I’ve seen these events covered on the news a bunch of times and there’s always protesters. The uber religious thinking they have some insight into right and wrong while hating people for loving who they love. They’re sick. Seriously.

Garrett doesn’t know it, but I’mma own this shit. We’re gonna get harassed and I have no doubt about that, but I’m gonna own it. Everything they might say, I’m gonna be what they think we are and shove it down their hateful, spiteful, bigoted throats.

As the parade began, I grabbed a hold of Garrett’s hand and started into the slow moving crowd near the curb. It didn’t take long for the f*ggot calls and insults to begin raining down. Like point four seconds and immediately Garrett feels ashamed.

No way.

What do we say to God’s and bigots?

Not today.

”It’s Adam and Eve! Not Adam and Steve!” shouts one uninventive asshat.

”Fuck you,” I shout back. ”Maybe Steve was hotter than Eve!”

As we continue on, I can see Garrett’s anxiety kicking in and he squeezes my hand tighter. ”You f*ggots are all gonna burn!” shouts another cunt.

”Then it’ll give more meaning to the term flamer!” I shout back which causes Garrett to smile a little.

”You’re… a bit over the top,” he says to me.

”Bitch please, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

”Why don’t you cock sucking f*ggots get the fuck out of my town!?”

”Hell yeah we suck cock!” I shout back and Garrett laughs out loud. ”You should try it bro!”

”Why don’t you come over here and say that to my face so I can kick you scrawny f*ggot ass!”

Ironic, considering the guy isn’t much bigger than a communion wafer. I do start to go toward him, but Garrett pulls me away. ”I’d kick your ass all over this town, bitch, but I don’t want you to have to explain to your friends how you got your ass kicked by a f*ggot!”

”Thad!” he yells at me while laughing at the same time.

”Your love is unnatural and against the teachings of Jesus Christ!”

I start to speak but Garrett covers my mouth with his hand. I rip his hand away. ”Hey little bitch boy! We’re gonna be husbands one day!” I shout, then without even thinking I grab Garrett and shove my tongue into his mouth.

It just… happened.

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was already too late to stop.

I think I got carried away.

His face was beet red and mine too. I felt the heat. It wasn’t shame, or embarrassment. It was something else entirely different that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the days events as I struggled to sort out the millions of thoughts running through my mind. There was no mention of the kiss at dinner with the Acevedo’s that night but Garrett talked in glowing terms of all the other shit. I’m pretty sure they love me now, for standing in solidarity with their beloved nephew.

That night in the bedroom, Garrett laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling. I sat on the floor, my back against the bedside as I deal with some business on my cell.

”Thad?”

”Yeah?” He’s quiet for a few long moments and I turn my head toward him. ”What’s up?”

”Why did you kiss me?”

I knew it was coming.

”I don’t know really. I didn’t even think about it. I just… did it.”

”It was fucking amazing.”

”Thanks,” I laugh. ”You weren’t bad either.”

”You know that I uh...” he hesitates to finish.

”That you what?” I ask as he continues to hesitate. ”Bro I shoved my tongue in your mouth with thousands of people watching, surely you have the balls to say whatever.”

”You know that I find you attractive… in that way.”

I pause. By no means am I uncomfortable about it, I’m just trying to not say something stupid or to make him feel stupid or anything like that.

”Yeah, I suspected.”

”Really? Did I do something? Or say something that gave it away?”

”No not at all. It’s just sometimes there’s like a twinkle in your eye when you look at me,” I reply.

”Well thanks man.”

”For what?”

”Not calling me out on it or making me feel stupid.”

”You’re my friend Gar, I’m not here to hurt you.”

I lay my phone down on the carpet and stare at the wall in front of me. I’m remembering a night not so long away quite vividly. He tried to kiss me and I freaked out. Why did I freak out then, but today I kissed him? A minute ago he told me that kiss was amazing and I nonchalantly just agreed with him. The fact is, it WAS an amazing kiss. I know I’m not gay because I have had and very much enjoyed relations with women. Women are generally very appealing sexually. But maybe… just maybe… I’m equally attracted to guys?

Hey Mastermind!

You’re god damn right I’m gonna call you on your shit! You sit there and act like you’re some insightful being saying “ohhh they’re gonna talk about how much I suck!” yeah. I am. And just because you said I would doesn’t invalidate the truth. If anything, it drives home my points even fucking harder because you knowq you don’t belong in this match. I know you don’t belong in this match. Management knows it too but let’s fucking face facts here- those fucking imbecile’s can’t even get out of their own way. How many times did that washed up warmed over turd Page get a Universal title match? How many times have people lost title matches or contender matches in this fucking company just to turn around the next week and get another shot at another title?

Vincent Lane’s own version of trickle down economics. Just keep on giving and giving title matches and as they Plinko their way toward the bottom maybe they’ll strike it rich and get lucky.

Not against me.

Not on my watch.

And you know what? I said Cam was the one that earned this match and I’d give him a one on one rematch at Savage, but I rescind that offer. Fuck you Cam. Fuck this stupid pointless match. Fuck your title shot because you don’t even have the balls to come out here and address your betters. You can take this offered rematch and shove it up Mastermind’s ass right next to, apparently, Vinnie Lane’s undersized cock.

I’m not dick shaming, I’m just stating facts.

Or is it Mastermind’s misshapen cock in Lane’s ass? I don’t know. All I know is this match should have never been made and this is the only logical explanation is one of them is fucking the other. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, theoretically speaking, obviously.

Mastermind, I suggest you gather what’s left of your manhood and your pride after I soundly defeat you and Cam Jordan and you retire back home to New Zealand. You were never that good to begin with and to be perfectly honest, this game passed you by before you ever made your XWF debut.

Yeah.

I study my XWF history.

There isn’t a move or a chain of moves in Mastermind’s game that I can’t or won’t counter. I say I’m better than you to mostly every fucking opponent but in this case, it’s actually obvious. I’m better than Mastermind in every conceivable fucking way. I can out run you. I can outlift you. I can out perform you in the ring and on the mic and if one day we were ever General Manager’s in this fucking place I’d out-GM you too.

Why? Because I’m fuckin’ better than you at everything in life.

Oh and remember how I was pissed off because you stuck your nose in my business? How I was mad because even though I’m the TV champ, it don’t really feel like it because there’s this asterisk? You should really watch your own back this weekend.

I promise you.

I’m going to kick your ass.

And I might not wait until match time. See, this show is called Relentless but it isn’t. It’s Restless. It’s two weeks and three days with too much limited potential. That means I am anxious to fight. Two weeks I’ve had to stew on this bullshit match and this bullshit excuse for a pay per view. Two weeks, Mastermind, that I’ve sat back and waited, and waited, and waited to get my hands on you. Big D is already talking shit saying he’d have beaten me and I’m going to hurt you for that.

Only in the XWF can a man go to Savage, win a championship and come out feeling like he barely even had anything to do with it. It’s a sad state of today’s Xtreme Wrestling Federation.

You’re not going to master my mind, old man. I’ve mastered that wrestling ring. I’m going to beat you from pillar to post. I promise you, you’re going to hurt. When time is up and I’ve beaten you senseless, you will stare up at the lights and know it to be true: that you pissed off the wrong fucking guy. I’ll admit I’m usually kinda happy and cheery and I promise I’m not right now. I do have a mean streak and you’re going to find out just what kind of brutality lives within the darkest recesses of my mind.

Cam, just don’t even show up. This match doesn’t really concern you or need you anymore. Thanks though, for proving just how pointless this all is. Thanks for being an ungrateful disrespectful piece of shit.

Fuck it all. Maybe I’ll just beat you both.

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