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The Collector · (07-25-2020)

Dr. Lewis Deville’s Office
Midtown Manhattan

It’s not easy being me. That’s true for just about everyone. Whether dirt poor or more affluent, sick or healthy, young or old… there’s difficulty in living your life. It’s no different for me. I have been struck with this notion that if I just run away from all the problems in my real life, the life I lead without this mask, that all my problems just disappear like I did.

I was wrong.

Whatever problems I have in my real life, aren’t solved just because I chose to leave that world behind me. When I go back, clearly that’s an inevitability at this point, those problems still exist, and they will need resolution. Further, while I have pretended for the last eight months or so that all my problems were gone since I now live under the guise of Jameson Henry, all I did was trade in my real life problems for those attached to me under the Henry name.

Running doesn’t work. Adopting a false identity to live under, doesn’t work. Wearing a mask doesn’t change who I really am. I have a real life that I have avoided for far too long as it is and it’s high time I acknowledge that and set in motion my plan to rectify that situation.

”Despite your resistance at times, Jaime, I feel you’ve been making great progress,” says the good but not great, maybe just decent doctor.

”I’ve been trying to keep an open mind,” I reply truthfully. If you seek help and know you need that help, it works if you work it.

”I’ve noticed.”

”I recognize that I have a lot of emotional trauma to deal with,” I say to him.

”And that makes you no different than every other person on the planet.”

”That’s a sobering thought, really,” I reply. One of my goals has always been to just lead a normal existence. I guess I’ll never be normal by traditional standards no matter the name I choose to use. At least in this way, I’m no different than anyone else.

”Our time is about up, but sobering how? In what way?”

”As long as I can remember, I just wanted to be normal,” I answer him. ”In many ways I’m no different than anyone else: emotionally, mentally. But I think its time I recognize what makes me who I am. Not Jameson Henry. The real me.

“No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be quite normal by normal standards. I was born into an extraordinary world to an extraordinary family and lived an extraordinary life.”

”That’s fantastic news.”

”Next time Doc, in our next session… I’m ready to talk about why I ran, why I disassociated with my real life and became this… character.”

”Jaime, I greatly look forward to that story.”

It’s a story that needs to be told. The who’s: me, Lizzy, Alister and so on. The what’s: being a debt collector, loving Liz, working for Alister… all just scenery. The ‘why’ is what matters. Why did I abandon my extraordinary life and adopt a false name, a false life?

It’s complicated.

Life always is.

Whether you’re a mechanic or the leader of a nation, life is complicated.

Later That Evening

”What would you like for dinner tonight?” Liz asks me as she enters the living room where I’m lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling.

”What?”

”Are you okay?” she asks as she approaches the sofa. I sit up to let her sit if she wants.

”Yeah,” I reply. ”I just have a lot on my mind.”

”Do you want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

She is, honestly.

”Where’s Alister?”

She chuckles as she sits beside me.

”What’s so funny?”

”I noticed you stopped calling him Pap,” she answers with another chuckle. ”Does that have anything to do with what happened that night at the bar?”

”No,” I answer, unsure as I may be. ”Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe.”

”Is that what’s on your mind?” she asks as she starts playing with the hair that’s protruding from the back of my mask.

”Partially.”

”I’m sorry I put you in that position,” she says with a sigh.

”I’m not,” I respond as I look in her direction. ”I wanted to kiss you since the day I met you.” The revelation makes her laugh almost hysterically. ”I know you don’t feel that way, it’s cool. At the bar we just...”

”Who said I didn’t feel that way?”

Oh.

”What do you want Alister for?”

”I could ask you the same question.”

She laughs some more.

”I’m done. And I want him to know.”

The smile fades from her face and her color drains.

”I’ll not be working for him any longer. I have a life to live that… is far more important than being Alister’s lackey grandson and its high time I get back to it.”

”...You’re leaving?” she asks, hurt evident in her tone of voice.

”I mean, not permanently, no. But, my people need me too.”

”Alister is in Miami.”

”That was this week?”

She nods.

”What if I left with you?” she asks as she pulls my head down into her lap, leaving me staring at the ceiling again. My gaze doesn’t stay there long though. I love looking at her face.

”You’re married,” I answer her with a chuckle. ”To my grandfather.”

”I don’t love him and he doesn’t love me,” she explains. ”We just coexist.”

”How does someone marry a man she doesn’t love?”

”Security. He knew that going in. He wanted a younger woman as arm candy, I wanted financial security. We both got what we wanted.

“Now here I am six years later, falling in love with his grandson.”

”Do you think that’s legit?” I ask. ”I mean as far as falling in love with me, you’re not just bored and lonely?” I elaborate further, sensing her confusion.

”You’re fucking incredible,” she says as she stares into my purge mask eyes. How intriguing they must be. If it was boredom or loneliness, she’d have quite likely been offended by my question. Only the guilty get offended by being asked questions about motives.

”I don’t regret what happened at the bar, Liz. That hour or so was the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I forgot everything that worries or bothers me.”

”Me too.”

”I think I love you.”

”Me too.”

With her left hand, she grabs my crotch which gives her the intended response. That’s not on camera you sick fucks. With her right hand, the reaches for the buckle at the back of my mask. I grab her hand with mine, resisting her.

”It’s time.”

She’s right.

”Let the real man live, Jaime,” she says as I lift my head and she slips off my mask. No pixelation. My face bared to the XWF universe for the first time in far, far too long.

”Thaddeus,” I correct her. ”Call me by my name.”

”Thaddeus,” she says with a smile. ”Thaddeus Leander Duke the Second. What a name for a beautiful man.

"How'd you end up with it?"

"My parents," I quip with a smile. She playfully slaps my chest. "It was my great-grandfathers name. It means Lion Heart."

It felt good. It felt good to breathe again. To shed the mask and the false, cringe worthy identity I’ve lived with for too long. To have someone call me by my name, my real name, was just so...liberating. It felt right for the first time in a very long time.

Several GLORIOUS minutes later, my head is back in her lap and once more, my gaze is at the ceiling. We’re both half naked but it occurs to me there’s something on the ceiling.

”What’s that?” I ask of Liz, knowing full well what the answer is. It had been there the whole time and I’d stared at it earlier.

”A camera,” she answers as she looks toward the ceiling, causing us both to laugh a little.

”Think he watched?”

”Hopefully.”

”Do you want to hurt him?”

”He views me as property, Thaddeus. Not as a person. He won’t be hurt," she says as she looks up at the camera again. "He’ll be livid.”

Somewhere in Miami

Alister Henry sits alone staring at his laptop computer screen. He closes the laptop and takes his reading glasses off his face and leans back in his chair, his face beet red. After tossing his glasses on the desk, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket, makes a few selections, then places the phone to his ear.

”It’s Alister…

“It seems my wife has found her way into my grandsons arms…

…

“Keep tabs on her day and night! If she leaves, I want to know where. If she returns I want to know what time. If she so much as takes a shit, I want to know what color and texture. Understood?

…

…

“With Jaime?

…

“He’s going by his birth name again it seems. Hold on, let me grab my copy.”

He opens his briefcase and starts rifling through some papers.

”Thaddeus Duke the second. 502 Galileo Drive, Old Saybrook, Connecticut.”

Back in New York

Thaddeus is showered and dressed. He sits on his bed with a large overstuffed duffelbag beside him. A light tap comes from the other side of his door and Liz enters.

”You’re leaving tonight?”

He nods affirmation.

”Can you take me with you?”

”Absolutely I can,” he replies with a smirk, channeling his best Jim Halpert.

She tackles him onto the bed and loves on him a few minutes.

”What do I bring?”

”If you’re serious, whatever you want.”

”Good,” she says after a kiss.

It’s safe to say stealing away with another man’s wife was never in Thaddeus Duke’s plans. His goal was always to just hide from his, at times overwhelming, real life. His desire to be just a normal human being is noted. He’s mentioned it several times. What’s more normal than falling in love? What Thaddeus has learned during his time as Jameson Henry is that no matter the name you have or the kind of life you lead, turmoil, crisis and chaos always follows.

It’s just life.

No, you can't always get what you want, but as the song says, if you try sometimes, you get what you need.

It seems to me that the star that I refer to so often as my wrestling career, is so damn bright that everyone wants in on the action. Obviously I don’t blame them. Here I am a month into my return home and Savage has drafted me against my will to compete for the Television title. That’s humbling in its way, but here’s the thing: I don’t want it.

To be clear, I’m appreciative of the show of respect those in charge are showing me by putting me in position to compete for championship gold and I appreciate the fact that despite my clumsiness in my past that they still consider me show headliner worthy. I am, in fact. I don’t care if I’m in the main event, the opener or anywhere in between. What I bring to the table on every show I partake in is nothing short of main event ability and the star power that follows it.

The truth is, when I win the Television championship for the second time, I will not be jumping to Saturday nights. So, clearly they haven’t thought that one through. Wednesday nights will have Thaddeus Duke in bright lights and that’s not going to change so I think it’s safe to assume that when I defeat Thunder Knuckles in Tokyo at Leap of Faith and lay claim to his Television title, my second reign will be short lived.

I don’t care.

I’m going to win it because I can. I’m going to win it because it’s what I do: beat people and collect titles. It’s what I have done since I began my wrestling career. In fact, it’s what everyone that has ever graced an XWF ring while any amount of Duke blood courses through their veins has done. It’s not gloating, it’s not boasting, it’s simply the honest truth. If I sat here and told y’all that Duke blood didn’t matter, I’d be lying and as you can see, I’m done lying. To myself and to you.

My opponent at Leap of Faith, one Thunder Knuckles…

He’s come quite a long way in the time I’ve been gone. He went from taking dives for xbux while costing both he and my father a chance for Lethal Lottery glory, to holding a prestigious title in a company full of historic championships and the champions that held them.

That’s impressive, and I’m not being sarcastic at all. I swear.

Thunder Knuckles has gone from an interesting side show, to a legitimate champion and if he’s not outwardly proud of himself, he surely is internally and he should be. From defeating Noah Jackson to drawing with Chris Page…

Wait.

That sounds like some great accomplishments… on paper. Until you line them up with facts. Noah Jackson, as good as he is, is far less of a threat when he decides he doesn’t care. Going toe to toe with Brian Storm? That’s like taking candy from a special needs baby, he’s a bit touched in the head and a downright loser.

Azrael Erebus?

I should sing his praises because he’s responsible for my existence as you know and see it, right?

Wrong.

Beating Azrael Erebus six or seven years ago? That’s an accomplishment. Beating him in 2020? You may as well have beaten Peter Gilmour and you’d get the same respect for it. Virtually none.

Now Chris Page! That’s an anomaly, right? If you ask him, certainly. But if you’re me, or think like me, then you’re well aware that Chris Page was never as good as he thought he was and has only lost steps as he’s grown older. He’s covered in past glories to be sure, but even still, he’s been overrated from day one.

What I’m saying is that Thunder Knuckles has beaten some people, or not lost to them, in his short career but none of them are what they suggest on paper. That’s not his fault or anyone’s. It just is what it is. All it’s done though is bolstered a false confidence. What I mean is that you tick off this list of names that he has faced and been successful at defending his Television title, and you have a general list of who used to be’s and never was’s. If you’re Thunder Knuckles, it bolsters your confidence but the fact remains that none of those names equate to Thaddeus Duke.

I’m cocky with a touch of arrogance but no matter my successes or my failures, nothing has ever rocked the confidence I have in myself. Thunder Knuckles has counted the days in his reign as Television Champion but on July 26th in Japan, he can finally stop counting. I will relieve him of his duties as champion and that begs the question: what will I do with a title I have no intention of defending? Maybe I’ll just sell it right back to him for a plethora of xbux that he loves so much and make him start over again at 1.

Regardless TK, your current reign as champion is in its final hours because I’m about to prove to you what everyone from Vinnie Lane to Peter Gilmour already knows and it isn’t a bad thing, or a shot, just facts: I’m better than you.

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