APOLOGIES ARE SO FUCKIN’ DUMB
We find ourselves backstage, only it doesn’t really look like the backstage we’re used to.
The traditional interview hub still looks more or less the same, but instead of the usual PRIME branding there is instead a cavalcade of posters blanketing everything. A few inches of the traditional blue manage to peek out between propaganda featuring Ivan Stanislav, newly-crowned Universal champion and hero to the Russian people. The Cyrillic alphabet is on full display as fist-sized letters proclaim the Russian Bear to be…
Ummm.
Well, actually we’re not sure what it says, because we can’t read Cyrillic, and the English translation is so damn small that you’d need a high-powered microscope to read it.
The main PRIME backdrop has been covered over with an image of Ivan’s face that runs from floor to ceiling, and because of the camera angle the fans at home will think a giant man is peeking up from the bottom of their television screens.
It’s also actively being defaced.
Like, literally defaced.
As Angelica Brooks does her level best to remain composed, Jared Sykes has already managed to tear both of the eyes out of Ivan’s massive visage and is now working on removing the space between them.
Angelica Brooks: I’m backstage with Jared Sykes, who…
There’s a loud tearing sound as Ivan’s nose is ripped clean off and left to float gently to the ground. The same can’t be said for the smaller posters that line the area, as one by one Jared yanks them down, crumples them up, and tries his best to set a new record in “office basketball” by throwing them into a nearby trash can.
Jared Sykes: Kobe!
You can’t see it, but that shot misses wide by about three feet.
Angelica Brooks: Jared, the last time we saw you was on the first night of UltraViolence, when you took on Cecilworth Farthington and FLAMBERGE in the main event. Given what happened with Hayes Hanlon in that match, I think we’re all curious what’s going through your mind.
Jared Sykes: You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot since then, trying to figure out where things went wrong. With the benefit of hindsight, there was a lot that I overlooked, I guess. Looking back… Things had been tense for a while. There was a change after Tropical Turmoil, no question there. Maybe I should have let him figure stuff out on his own, I dunno. Maybe I overstepped by going out to the ring at Rev’ thirty-whatever. Hell, maybe this was always the way that things were going to play out.
He shrugs.
Jared Sykes: I don’t know.
Angelica Brooks: We also know that you weren’t in attendance for the second night of UltraViolence. What kept you away from the arena that night?
Jared yanks down another of the smaller posters, crushes it into a ball, but hesitates before throwing it off screen.
Jared Sykes: Honestly, I didn’t see a point in being there. Maybe someone else in my position would have been looking for revenge that night, but there were other things on my mind. Don’t get me wrong, there are still some questions I need answered and some business that needs to be handled, but… that wasn’t the time. And besides…
He tosses the poster off screen without bothering to see where it lands. It’s not for “no look” style points, but strictly out of pure derision. He gestures to the rest of the display, still very much intact despite his best efforts.
Jared Sykes: Why the hell would I want to see this happen live? Nah, I’m all set with that.
Angelica Brooks: Speaking of the Universal championship, we’re well into the first round of this year’s Seymour Almasy Memorial Tournament with eight matches taking place tonight, including one between Logan James and yourself. What can we expect from you going into this tournament?
Jared Sykes: If I answer that question honestly I’m going to have to deal with a very angry partner later on.
He offers a weak smile before continuing.
Jared Sykes: In truth, I have no idea. I dare anyone to look up and down both sides of this bracket and try to pick a winner. It’s pretty much impossible. I know there’s been an online debate lately over whether the top-right is harder than the bottom-left or vice versa. Maybe it’s top-left. Who knows. You know you mentioned the UltraViolence match, but everyone involved in what happened that night is on the other side of the bracket, so if I was the revenge-minded type then there’s only one way to make that happen…
He pauses for a moment, and another poster is offered as tribute to the gods of recycling.
Jared Sykes: But all I can do is focus on what’s in front of me – the next match. Tonight that’s Logan James. I know his road in PRIME so far hasn’t been the easiest, but that’s something you can say about anyone. There’s no easy outs here. Again, just try and pick a winner for this tournament. He got matched up against Kennade Starr and ran into some streamer bullshit. Then his second match is against someone who’s kicked down the door and opened a lot of eyes in Daytona Diamonds. Is tonight the night that Logan James gets one in the win column?
He shrugs again.
Jared Sykes: Could be, but I’m damn sure not going to make it easy. There aren’t many shots to go around, and there probably aren’t a whole lotta years left on this bump card, so if not now…
He trails off and pulls down another sheet of paper. For this one Jared punches a hole where Ivan’s mouth is printed, then tears his face clean off the page.
Angelica Brooks: As you said, trying to pick a winner from this field is quite the challenge, but there has been a little bit of extra attention on your corner of the bracket. The winner of your match tonight will face off against either Tony Gamble or Paxton Ray in the second round. What are your thoughts about a possible Colossus rematch at ReVival 38?
“Been wonderin’ that myself.”
The crowd boos as the camera pans to the right to see the aforementioned Paxton Ray, walking into the frame with his hands in his pockets. He looks from Angelica to the scene of paper carnage that Jared Sykes has created.
Paxton Ray: Nice redecoratin’ job you’re doin’ here.
Jared’s expression hardens. Instead of answering, he reaches out with his right arm to pull another of the smaller posters down. He tears it without looking and lets the two halves fall to the floor.
Jared Sykes: (stoic) Thanks.
Angie’s eyes dart between the two men. Given their violent history, and the months of bodies and bloodshed that stained the path to last year’s Colossus, it takes her no more than a few seconds before she decides this is not a place she wants to be right now.
Another propaganda poster is pulled from its perch, torn, and tossed aside. All the while Jared never breaks eye contact with infinitely larger, infinitely meaner Paxton Ray.
Jared Sykes: What do you want, Paxton?
Paxton Ray: Nothin’ really. Jus’ walkin’ around, tryin’ t’get my mind right for tonight. Heard Angie say my name, and here I am.
There’s still the sneer, and the gruff delivery, but something feels different about this Paxton Ray. He feels more subdued than rage filled. But as he looks down on Jared Sykes, he flashes the familiar sadistic smile.
Paxton Ray: While I got ya here though, I do got somethin’ t’say. And it ain’t about a potential fight in a month, though I’d love that t’happen.
Jared Sykes: I’m surprised you wait that long. I don’t remember you being the patient type.
Paxton Ray: Yeah, well ‘bout that.
His hands still in his pockets, Paxton looks down at his feet. He almost looks bashful if you forget he’s the same guy who paralyzed another wrestler.
Paxton Ray: I been tryin’ t’be better. And I jus’ wanted to…t’say sorry. For hurtin’ ya, for goin’ too far at times. For Jon.
Jared pulls another poster off of the wall, begins to tear it in half, and then he freezes. The paper falls from his hands.
Jared Sykes: What?
There’s a brief pause.
Jared Sykes: What?
Followed by another. Paxton doesn’t get a chance to answer before Jared continues.
Jared Sykes: You’re sorry. I have to live with the fact that you took all of this away from someone I’ve known – I’ve cared about – for years… That I wasn’t fast enough to stop it, and you’re sorry. The people I love – my family – they spent three months of their lives terrified, begging me to come home and stop this, but it’s fine because now you’re sorry. Mark? Remember him? Is that okay now? You just show up here, and apologize, and… and… andandand we what? Just absolve you of your fucking sins?
Jared doesn’t reach for another poster. Instead he turns and puts all of his weight against the interview backdrop, pushing it to the ground. All of his own anger is now boiling over.
Jared Sykes: You don’t get it. All that bullshit Tom said these last couple of months about how I tried to beat some sense into you? Well he missed the fucking mark. Missed it a mile wide. I was just trying to survive, but hey it’s all good now because you’re sorry.
Nostrils flaring. Chest heaving. It’s a far cry from what PRIME is used to.
Jared Sykes: What is this? Hayes gets one over on me, so now everyone thinks it’s open season? That I’m just the dumbest ass who’ll believe anything? You said “for Jon”… You give him this same speech? Did you?!
As Paxton stood through Jared’s response, the smile vanished, but it was not replaced with a scowl, a sneer, or even a frown. Instead, he just shook his head.
Paxton Ray: Not yet. It’s the next step.
For a moment Jared says nothing, the gears in his head working to puzzle this out. Then it clicks. When he speaks again the anger and frustration are still present, but for now they’re held in check by curiosity.
Jared Sykes: So… Is this you talking, or your new friend? The one that showed up at UltraViolence.
Paxton’s first response is for his nostrils to flare, his hands to ball into fists, his mouth to open for an angry rebuttal – you know, the way he has been for about a year here. But there is a clear restraint in his body posture and tone when he replies.
Paxton Ray: Bit a’both. Make no mistake. I think you’re kinda a twat. An’ I would like t’fight ya again. But last year I didn’t think ‘bout nothin’ in the future. I jus’ wanted t’see blood. Now I’m realizin’ there’s more than jus’ livin’ ring bell to ring bell.
Jared Sykes: Riiiiiight. But between those bells, what, everyone still gets to die? Not much different as long as that’s still the case.
Somewhere in the Bayou Butcher’s brain, he remembers what Julie told him last week: not every apology is forgiven, and that’s okay. So Paxton shrugs his shoulders.
Paxton Ray: If ya say so. In any case, sorry t’ruin your interview. An’ good luck or whatever.
He walks by Jared, muttering as he does so.
Paxton Ray: Apologies are so fuckin’ dumb.
With the tension of the situation surprisingly defused, Angelica Brooks walks back into frame. Jared turns to look at her.
Jared Sykes: What the hell was that?
She doesn’t answer, and we fade to elsewhere, backstage.