Most rational people are aware that, generally speaking, it’s probably not the best of ideas to make decisions during particularly emotional periods of their lives. Emotional people aren’t rational, they’re not usually smart. They’re driven by the emotions rather than the circumstances surrounding that triggered them, and that tends to lead to considerable mistakes being made.
As a species, humans can’t control their emotions by simply flipping the off switch, they can only control their reactions to them. But that can often be easier said than done, in a world that feels like an emotional rollercoaster at the best of times, without added pressures from unexpected events taking place. David Helms was no stranger to the notion of letting his emotions rule his behaviours at times, even he would have to hold his hands up to that one. Perhaps he wasn’t the worst for it, but he had definitely allowed his feelings to steer the ship when he should have favoured a more pragmatic approach. Often, it was a specific set of triggers that set him off, and while he wished he could simply ensure those buttons weren’t pressed in order to avoid those type of situations, that wasn’t even remotely possible. Even if he could control his own actions, he couldn’t control the actions of others, and his family had always been something of a trigger issue for him, and this business with Eacott was no different.
He knew his overreaction was driven by emotion, not rationality. He knew he was undoubtedly making a mistake, as he ducked in and out of the heavy downtown traffic, to speed towards the address that had been on the letterhead of the note that accompanied the champagne sent to him by Nathan Eacott, a building that google had told him was the main office of Eacott’s property development company, but David didn’t care; his emotions had well and truly won the skirmish for supremacy of his brain and the irrational side was no strapped firmly into the drivers seat just as he was strapped in the seat of his Audi R8.
If he had been thinking clearly, David would never have gone to find Elias to begin with, let alone be in the position he now found himself in, speeding through traffic in order to no doubt have his second confrontation of the day. The New Jerseyite wasn’t an idiot, he was well aware of the fact that he was making a mistake, but that could practically be a textbook-definition of how poorly wired human beings truly were; capable of thoughts more intricate than any other species on the planet, humanity had a propensity to take that ability and use it to blow their lives up in a whole host of creative, self-destructive ways!
And David was no different…
Like anyone else, David did try his best to avoid pain, to ignore frustration or sadness. It was a fool's errand in the long run obviously, because sooner or later they’d present a receipt and debts had to be settled, but David was no different to the next man when it came to abdicating his responsibility to process his feelings… even if wearing your heart on your sleeve means the shelf life on such a tactic isn’t particularly long.
He’d set a new personal record this time though; he hadn’t even managed to delay his outcry for a single day before lashing out in anger! He found himself in a situation and almost immediately his base instinct was to identify that something was wrong and it had to be sorted out, right this minute, before it could fester and become an even bigger problem. It didn’t occur to him that perhaps he should simply give in and agree to sell to Eacott, it didn’t occur to him that he could make all of this end with one phone call - foolish pride of a foolish man, evidently - his immediate reaction was to go on the attack and lash out in retaliation. He’d regret it. That voice at the back of his mind told him so, it was screaming it at him begging for him to listen. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because the red mist had descended and was clouding his vision, his decisions and his common sense!
It was a far cry from being a wholehearted, mindfully engaged way of existence… and David Patrick Helms did not care one iota. He was out for revenge and he intended to get it, regardless of the consequences
The result of that was an unpredictable and no doubt disastrous journey across the city of Los Angeles that was almost certainly going to result in him getting into a lot of trouble. But that was future David’s problem, and the red-mist-fuelled present David had no concern for him as he skidded to a complete stop outside of a modern glass and steel fronted skyscraper in the heart of LA’s financial district. He looked around, and spotted a sign for guest parking and slipped the car back into gear to follow the signs, pulling into an underground parking lot that was still relatively full for the time of day that it was. He parked and jumped out, almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to make for the elevator at the far end of the lot, making it a good twenty feet away from his car before he even remembered to lock it. He thumbed the button on the fob in his hands and watched the lights flash twice before he turned back to the task at hand and practically sprinted towards the elevator, skidding to a stop in front of it only to hammer repeatedly at the call button, stopping only once the doors began to open.
He drew short as he stepped inside though; while he knew the offices of Eacott Property Development was in the building, he didn’t know if it was the whole building or just part of it, and even if it was the whole thing, he didn’t know how to track that slimy bastard Eacott down anyway. He almost second guessed himself in that moment, but as he thought about turning and leaving again before things went too far, his eyes fell on his reflection in the mirrored glass inside the elevator and spotting the champagne bottle in his hand, his jaw muscles tightened and he turned to hammer the button for the foyer. Fuck it he said to his own reflection, I’ll figure out where the douche bag’s hiding once I’m there.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime and as they did, a hint of voices carrying from above along with soft music playing from hidden speakers filled the elevator’s car and David stepped out into the foyer, looking left then right, wondering which direction he should head. He saw a security guard at a podium style standing desk by the foyer’s main entrance but the guy was too busy looking at his phone to notice David slip into the lobby and look around. David started to believe the whole building belonged to Eacott, because the only logo’s he saw were for Eacott Property Development rather than the various companies he’d expect if it was used on a floor by floor basis, and the reception at the opposite end of the lobby from the main doors only had his branding around the edge of the desk too. David made his way towards them, noting that the elevators that went to the true upper parts of the building were located right behind the desk to either side, so if he wanted in that seemed like his only way to do so. “Good afternoon sir, welcome to Eacott Property Development, how can I help you today?” the young guy behind the desk said as David approached; he couldn’t have been long out of college if David was any judge, and the poor attempt at facial hair on his lip only further added to that, but David put a fake smile on his face and made his best attempt at returning the jovial attitude back at the kid.
“Well hi,” he said, placing as much phony happiness into his voice and the smile on his face as his enraged, volatility could muster in the moment. “And good afternoon to you too, I hope you’re doing great today?”
“I am thank you, and yourself?” the receptionist asked and Dave nodded enthusiastically.
“Doing just great, thanks buddy!” David told the kid, almost amused at how easily sarcasm could be masked as politeness when the other person doesn’t realise there’s a shit-storm brewing inside your head. “Looking forward to the weekend, you know how it is.”
David was hoping that the young guy didn’t know who he was, because that could have caused a few issues; random guy turning up and chatting away at reception is one thing, David Helms turning up unannounced and acting this weird? That was another thing entirely! “Oh, you and me both sir, believe me,” the receptionist said, flashing a smile. “So how can I help you today?” he added, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand, and this was where David was going to have to blag his way in if possible.
“Sorry, I’m keeping you from your work, huh?” he said, grinning sheepishly and to his credit the kid shook his head saying it was fine, but David put up his empty hand in an apologetic gesture all the same. “Sorry, I do that quite often. I’m a chatty Cathy to tell you the truth, I just don’t know when to shut up… see, I’m doing it now! Oversharing and not just getting to the point. What an idiot!” he added, playfully slapping himself in the forehead and chuckling. The kid laughed too. “I have an appointment with Mr. Eacott, we’ve closed on a new development together and the paperwork has all gone through and I wanted to celebrate with him so I bought him this,” he told the receptionist, bringing the bottle of champagne up to put it on the top of the reception desk, though he maintained his grip on the neck of the bottle. “I really want to give this to him as a gift. It wasn’t cheap, and we both know Mr. Eacott is a man of resources and expensive taste, don’t we?”
David wondered if he’d see any sort of reaction from the young guy when he spotted the bottle, but the receptionist merely smiled blankly at the sight of it. He hadn’t expected the kid to react in all honesty; if Eacott was going to get someone to do his dirty work for him, it would be someone a little closer to him, like a personal assistant or something of that ilk. Not a young kid fresh out of college, working the desk down in the lobby. “That is he sir, that he is,” the receptionist said with a pleasant smile before he started looking underneath the desk, taking his eyes off of David as he continued to speak. “Now, I know Mr. Eacott is currently in a board meeting up on the twentieth, but just let me get the appointments book and our sign in book and we can--” he said, his voice trailing off as he straightened up and turned back to look at David, only the New Jerseyite wasn’t there anymore. The receptionist looked confused until the sound of the elevator doors behind him caused him to snap his head around in time to see David stepping into the elevator. “Hey! Hey sir, you can’t just go in there! Sir!! Oh crap, hey Carl,” he yelled, turning to look at the security guard across the lobby as the elevator doors closed shut behind David.
Inside the elevator’s car, David had already jabbed at the button for the twentieth floor; it was a real turn of good fortune that the kid on reception had told him everything he needed to know without realising it. When David had entered the building, he didn’t know whether Eacott was even there, just more proof that he wasn’t thinking rationally when making the decision to go there in the first place, but that kid had not only confirmed he was but had told him exactly where too! He stood there, tapping a foot impatiently as he watched the number above the door ticking over one by one as the car climbed the floors, and with each tick over of the number he expected the car to come to a stop, for someone to have hit the button on a lower floor to stop him from gaining access. But the car continued to climb, and David’s grip tightened on the neck of the bottle as it neared the final stop on the twentieth floor. The elevator started to slow as it passed the nineteenth floor and coming to a stop the doors slid open with a soft ding and David stepped out into the hallway only for a hand to slap onto his shoulder, the fingers digging into his skin.
“Not so fast buddy,” a voice said as the fingers dug into his shoulder and David turned his head to see another member of the security team glaring at him. “Now we can do this two ways. We can--” he started, though he didn’t get as far as actually explaining what those ways were. David may not be getting any younger, but he wasn’t getting any slower either, and before the guard even had chance to finish his sentence, David had gripped the guys wrist and ducked underneath the grip. A yelp came from the throat of the security guard as David twisted his arm up behind his back, but thinking fast, David span the guard around and pushed him as hard as he could into the elevator that he himself had just stepped out of. The guard hit the opposite wall of the car hard and David reached inside to slap at the button for the lobby, hammering it several times before stepping back as the guard found his balance again.
“Sorry bro,” David said, juking backwards as the doors started to close, and while the unfortunately security guard did manage to shake off the cobwebs, he didn’t do so quickly enough and the doors slid shut before he could do anything to stop them. While he had got away with that one though, David was conscious that time wasn’t on his side; he knew that he had to find Eacott straight away, because there would no doubt be more security on their way as he wasted time even considering the idea, so he couldn’t afford to linger at the elevator more than he already had. The hallway split off to the left and right, but towards the right was a dead end, so David went left and as he rounded the corner, it opened into a wider space with what looked like meeting rooms on all sides. One set of doors was different to the rest however, as they were big double doors instead of single and the lights were on inside the room, doing a great job of illuminating just what David was looking for. Standing at one end of a large conference table, was the bastard that David was here for. Eacott! “Got you, you slimy rat fuck,” David said to himself angrily as he motioned to start towards the door, only to stop dead in his tracks as movement inside the room caught his eye and he ducked out of sight into a cubicle just as Eacott’s hired thug Thaddeus stepped out of the boardroom.
For a minute, David though that the gorilla may be onto him, that security may have called it in that there was an intruder on site because the steroid-pumping knuckledragger paused to look around him… but with a sigh of relief, David watched the musclehead shrug and continue across the open office space and open a door that had a sign above it indicating it was for the restrooms. David quietly stepped back out of the cubicle and didn’t let his thoughts linger on Thaddeus any longer; if it was a play by the big ugly fuck, he’d deal with it when he made his move, but his mind was on one thing and one thing only now; Eacott. He marched across the office floor at speed, stopping only to throw the door open with such force that one of it’s panes of glass actually cracked in one corner as the hinges of the door strained under the impact, and shrieks filled the room as David launched the bottle of champagne he carried full pelt across the room, aiming for Eacott. “You rat bastard!” he yelled, as the bottle seemed to spin in slow motion towards the crooked businessman, who looked up and ducked just in time for the bottle to miss hitting him, wincing as it instead shattered on the wall behind him, sending shards of glass and spilled champagne everywhere. “You no good, despicable, dishonourable, dirty bastard!” he yelled as several board members scrambled out of their seats in an effort to put distance between themselves and David, who used one of the newly vacated chairs to climb onto the table, rushing Eacott and diving on him to tackle him to the ground. “YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS?!” David screamed, dragging Eacott to his feet and rushing him back to slam him against the wall that had been hit with the bottle seconds earlier.
“D-David?” Eacott stuttered, his shirt collar cutting into his neck slightly due to the fact David’s fists had balled up handfuls of it as he slammed him against the wall. “W-what… the hell, man…” he managed to mumble as David pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back against it again.
“SHUT UP!” Helms barked as the majority of the board members fled the room in a panic, but Helms ignored them. He didn’t know any of them, didn’t care who they were. The only person he cared about was right there in front of him, radiating fear. “NOT SO BIG WHEN THE INCREDIBLE BULK ISN’T HERE, ARE YOU, EACOTT?” he screamed, shaking the crooked businessman again. “EASY TO LAUGH UNTIL THE SHOE’S ON THE OTHER FOOT!”
“D-David… please… is there any need for this?!” Eacott pleaded, not even attempting to struggle away from David’s grip. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway, his grip was far too tight for him to escape. “Look, whatever it is, we’re both adults, aren’t we? Perhaps we should--”
“Shut it, Eacott!” David ordered the slimeball, slamming him back against the wall once again for emphasis, watching even more fight leave his eyes in the process. “I don’t know how you dare… I don’t know how you dare look me in the fucking eyes right now, you dirty scheming fuck!” he yelled, reaching into his pocket to pull out the letter that Eacott had sent him. “After this?!” he said, holding it up so Eacott had no choice but to look at it.
Understanding seemed to overtake Eacott as his eyes took in the letter and while he was obviously trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, David could see the glint in his eyes that meant he was happy that David was reacting this way. His face may not be showing it, but the look in those eyes gave him away entirely in that moment and David had to fight so hard internally not to grab the guy by the throat instead of the silk of his dress shirt. “Wait,” Eacott said, his eyes suddenly darting back to David’s. “That wasn’t the Roederer, was it?! Jesus Christ, that stuff is eleven hundred dollars a bottle, you savage!” Eacott said, forgetting himself for a moment. “I’ve had that bottle in my collection for more than a decade! It was twenty five years old!”
“I’m crushed,” Helms retorted, sarcastically. “But fuck the champagne, let’s talk about this!” he added, pushing the letter against Eacott’s chest. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re thinking?!”
“WHAT?!” Eacott finally exploded, his frustrations bubbling over. “David, it literally says in the letter that it was a good will gesture, an apology… you know what one of those actually is, yes? I hope so, because you’re gonna owe me one when this is through, believe me!”
“I don’t owe you a fucking thing!” Helms said, tossing the letter aside before grabbing Eacott by the shirt and spinning him around to throw him into his chair, the wheels of which sent it sliding backwards until it hit the conference table with a bang. “I don’t know how you can keep this pretense up, Eacott. We both know that that letter was nothing but a series of thinly veiled threats against my family, and if you think you can get away with that shit, you have another thing coming!” he screamed at the property mogul, spittle flying from his lips and almost hitting Eacott in the face.
The cold eyes of Eacott focused on David, like he was reading him, looking for an angle or way to approach the conversation. That came as no surprise to David; this guy was a businessman after all, and part of that meant being at least moderately successful as a negotiator, brokering deals or discussing terms. Eacott was plainly trying to put those same skills into practice with David, given the fact that he was in a considerably weaker position this time than the last time the pair spoke. “Listen, David,” Eacott said, standing up slowly with hands raised to show he wasn’t planning anything. “I understand my friend, I truly do. You feel that I’ve wronged you somehow, that there is was more to my little gift than what was intended, but let me assure you,” he said, as he placed his hands behind his back, one hand gripping the other, while pacing back and forth over a short stretch of carpet. “That there is nothing in that letter that I didn’t wholeheartedly mean, and anything you think I was implying is nothing but paranoia created by you. It was a peace offering David, an olive branch…”
Ha. That was exactly what David knew he would claim, he’d said as much when talking to Lucas and Matty earlier that day, wasn’t it? “Bullshit,” David said, refusing to believe a word of it. “You know exactly what you meant with the shit you put in that letter, Eacott! You went out of your way to find out where I live for starters, and that shit isn’t easy because my address is unlisted! The mention of my wife? Mentioning my kid? Talking about my ex-wife’s shop? Shit, I’m surprised you didn’t bring up the fact that my mother-in-law has cancer or the fact that one of my brother’s owns a bar and property in California and the other one works in Hollywood, just to add some icing to the cake!”
“Your mother-in-law is sick, huh?” Eacott said, his eyebrows raised at this new piece of information that he clearly hadn’t been aware of beforehand. “I’m truly sorry to hear that David, and if there’s anything I can do to help her situation, I--”
“Oh fuck you, Eacott…” David said, scoffing at the slightly younger man’s attempts to placate him and win him around. “Like you didn’t know already!”
Eacott went to open his mouth but before he could, a yell from the other side of the doors caught the attention of both of them. “HEY!” Thaddeus bellowed from across the office, having just stepped out of the restroom and spotted what was going on in the boardroom directly across from where he stood. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” he yelled as he started to rush for the boardroom doors, but Helms was much quicker than Eacott and Thaddeus, and before the musclebunny could reach the room or Eacott could flee it, Helms grabbed at Eacott and came up behind him, an arm around the mogul’s neck. Thaddeus came up short at the doors, looking on wide eyed as his nose wrinkled in distaste at the situation, but he clearly knew better than to make any unnecessary moves in that moment, which Helms was thankful for. He knew that if Thaddeus had continued to rush the room, the likely outcome would have been a fight and maybe Helms would have made it a fairer one this time thanks to not being blindsided by it, but he still wasn’t sure whether or not he’d have won. And worse, the situation would have come to a premature end, there was no way he would have been able to finish his little ‘chat’ with Eacott if the roidhead had acted as David expected him to. He was thankful that the meathead wasn’t as dumb as he looked. “Mr. Eacott?” the bodyguard said, clearly wanting instructions.
“Keep calm, Thaddeus…” Eacott said, swallowing heavy as Helms kept a tight grip around his neck. David could feel the adam’s apple bob up and down in Eacott’s throat as he tried to control his nerves and it was good that the corrupt asshole was nervous. He should be. He thought he was winning, that he was going to brush Dave aside like he was insignificant, but people like Eacott needed to learn that some people fight back and that David was one of those people! “Just keep calm, everything is under control…”
“Yeah, it’s all under control bro, no need to worry,” David said, sneering at the meathead. “So how about you take a few steps back while me and your boss here take a little walk over to the door and lock it, how’s that sound?”
“Mr. Eacott, orders sir?” Thaddeus asked, looking at his boss rather than David, and Eacott just about managed a nod of his head despite the hold David had on him.
“Do as he says please Thaddeus,” the mogul instructed, as he allowed David to walk him over to the double glass doors, which David pushed firmly shut and turned to twist the deadbolt. “Nothing to worry about, we’re just going to have a little chat, right David?”
“Yeah, that’s right bro,” David agreed, backing up towards the table to sit Eacott down in one of the chairs that sat with it’s back to the door. He kept his eye on Thaddeus the entire time as he then made his way around to the other side of the table so that he could keep both men in his line of sight at all times. “Just gonna have a little conversation about boundaries and why it’s a bad idea to overstep them, that’s all…”
“And I hope that’s a lesson you’ll learn rather quickly David, so we can get this charade over with,” Eacott said, rubbing at his neck wiith one hand. “What did you expect from coming here, huh? That I would hold my hands up and saw ‘aww shucks, you caught me, I was threatening you and your family but I guess I’d better stop now’ or something?” the mogul asked, laughing right at David as Thaddeus began to pace backwards and forwards on the other side of the glass, a phone in his hand and pressed up to his ear as he quietly spoke to someone on the other end of the line. “Did you think any of this through, hmm? You realise what we’ve got here now is technically a hostage situation, right? I bet security have already called the police… they probably did so the minute the rest of the board ran from the room screaming about some maniac storming in here!”
“Shut up, Eacott!” Helms said, knowing full well that the asshole was probably right about that one. He hadn’t thought any of this through, Eacott was exactly right about that, which only served to annoy him further, but it didn’t matter. Not now. “You’re not just going to talk your way out of this, dude. No chance,” he added, trying to divert the conversation away from the facts that Eacott was throwing at him.
“I’m not trying to talk my way out of anything David, I’m simply keeping the conversation flowing while you are here and we have the opportunity,” Eacott said, smiling. “From the minute you stormed in here and threw a heavy glass bottle at me, your time was limited to however long it takes for the police to arrive and clean the little issue up. My time however, is unlimited. As are my resources, as you no doubt are aware.”
“Yeah, I’m more aware of that than you realise,” David spat, doing his best to hold back on throwing Elias’ name back at him; if he did that, it was all over. Eacott would terminate his deal with Elias and find some other stooge to do his dirty work and Dave would either lose the building or something far worse.
“Oh really?” Eacott said, looking surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s understandable; when we last met, you had never heard of me… you’ve had time since to at least put my name into your search engine of preference, I suppose. Anything interesting turn up?” he asked, and David wondered if he was just genuinely interested in what publicity he was getting or whether he suspected David may have found something a little less flattering buried away online.
“Cut the small talk Eacott, I’m not here to buff your ego,” David told him, brushing the question aside. “Do you really think I’m going to believe you when you say that letter wasn’t you threatening my family? I’ve seen windows harder to see through!” he went on, steering things back in the direction he wanted them to go; Eacott was probably right, he probably was on borrowed time now, and while there was no way he could prove anything the mogul told him, hearing the bastard admit it would be enough. He just wished he’d had enough foresight to set his phone on record before entering the room. “You’re not being recording,” Helms added, pulling out his phone to show the screen. “Just you and me in here, no one listening… but between the two of us, as adults, we both know that you sent that letter because you wanted to fucking threaten me, Eacott! You wanted me to worry about my family, admit it!”
Eacott’s eyes shifted to the phone that now sat on the table next to Dave. David even went as far as unlocking the screen and flicking to close all the apps running on it. Even if he was recording, any app he was using would have to show as running and Eacott knew that. With every single app closed and his phone back in his pocket, Eacott finally sighed and threw his hands up in frustration. “Fine, you win… it wasn’t a simple apology or gesture of my regret. I wanted you to truly understand a point, and what better way than showing you how easy it was for me to learn all about you and your family?” the mogul admitted, smirking. “And it evidently worked, despite certain people suggesting you were too naive for your own good. I worried that maybe you’d actually take it on face value, I confess. But no, here you are, holding me hostage in my own office. Delightful!”
“Wow… you know, I didn’t expect you to actually have the balls to admit to it!” David said as he looked over Eacott’s shoulder at sudden movement and saw several members of the buildings security walk into the office space beyond the boardroom. Thaddeus walked over to them and they huddled in conversation before turning to look back at him and Eacott.
Wondering what David was looking at, Eacott turned to look over his shoulder and let out a small laugh. “Oh, shame. I hoped it would be the police,” he said before turning back to David. “Still, I can at least do something about this one to ensure nothing silly takes place, can’t I?” he said, reaching over to push a button on the conference call machine in the middle of the table. He pressed a short series of numbers before sitting back in his chair. In the room beyond, David saw Thaddeus suddenly react and he pulled out his phone, which explained who Eacott was calling at least.
“Mr. Eacott. Is everything okay sir?” the thug said from the other side of the glass, glaring into the room where David and Eacott sat, staring a hole through David. If looks could kill.
“Fine and dandy, Thaddeus, thanks,” Eacott said cheerfully. “I just wonder if you can do me a favour and put your phone on loud speaker for a moment,” the mogul said and on the other side of the glass, David watched Thaddeus take the phone from his ear and push a button on the screen. Eacott turned to look over his shoulder and saw Thaddeus now holding his phone out in front of him instead and he smiled to himself as he turned back to the conference telephone on the table in front of him. “Excellent. Boys? I want you to listen to me very carefully for a second; I don't want any of you to try and come in here and resolve this, okay? Just wait out there for the police to turn up and then Mr. Helms here can leave with them, am I understood?” he asked and David heard all of the goons out there murmur their agreement back at Eacott. Like a pack of well trained dogs, all barking on call. “Thank you,” the mogul said before reaching over and pressing another button on the conference phone, ending the call. “There we go. No unplanned, rude interruptions... for the time being at least…”
“Am I supposed to be grateful?” David asked, sneering at the crooked businessman across the table from him.
Eacott shrugged. “I suppose not… but it does allow you to say whatever you felt the need to say to such an extent that you’d stoop to these levels, David, so a little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss in my opinion…”
“Go fuck yourself, how’s that for grattitude?” Helms asked and Eacott simply rolled his eyes before smirking.
“You’re not my type, but thanks for the offer,” Eacott told him, fully expecting his words to annoy David further still. He wasn’t disappointed, even if David didn’t say anything of the sort. “So you got what you came for David, my admission. Between just the two of us, of course. Was it worth it? Was it worth what is undoubtedly going to happen next, being placed under arrest and charged with whatever LA’s finest can come up with?”
“It’ll be worth hearing whatever happens just to hear you admit what a fucking lowlife you are, Eacott!” David told him, not a hint of hesitation in his voice as he did so. “But I don’t get it, I really fucking don’t. Is some building downtown really worth all of this underhanded spiteful bullshit?! You’ve literally levied threats at a ten year old boy, you sick fuck!”
“It’s a matter of pride, David!” Eacott said with a sigh and a sad shake of the head. “You don’t understand these things, you’re not in the same world as I am. Sure, it was irritating that you managed to convince that old fool to sell to you instead of sending the building to auction, but I don’t really care about the missed opportunity or lost profits, no… it’s the principle of the thing I care about. You undercut me, and I don’t like people getting one over on me David, it doesn’t do good for business to allow others to see your weaknesses!”
“So this is about ego?!” Helms scoffed, incredulous that this was really coming down to the fact that Eacott’s fragile ego had taken a hit and he wasn’t able to handle it like a reasonable and rational adult! “Jesus Christ, how the fuck did you make it this far in business if this is how you deal with problems?”
“Easy David,” the mogul said, sitting back and steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “I made it this far in business by dealing with my problems like this. The answer is held within the question, as it were…”
“You really are reprehensible, aren’t you?” David said, though it was a statement more than a question and Eacott seemed to understand that too. He bowed his head in agreement before straightening up again and leaning forward on the table.
“You had the easy option, my friend… I was prepared to make you an offer that was more than generous, but you flat out refused to listen,” Eacott explained, shaking his head in dismay. “And to think, if you’d just used your common sense, it would have saved us both so much hassle. It would have been so easy, David. I have so many connections; in the building trade, property development, city council, planning, engineering… hospitals…” he added, seemingly as an afterthought, and David wondered what he was getting at with that. It didn’t sink in.
“Hospitals? What the hell has that got to do with me opening up a gym?!” Helms asked, but Eacott threw his arms open in a theatrical shrug.
Bringing his arms back down again, Eacott tapped his fingers on the desk, seemingly looking around the room thoughtfully now instead of looking David in the eye. “Who’s to say it does or doesn’t?” the mogul casually said, his voice a picture of innocence. “Who’s to say what’s connected to what, these days… just pointing out that I had connections that could have been useful, whether it was finding you alternative premises, ensuring future planning permission went through without problem or, I don’t know, ensuring that a loved one’s medical care was placed ahead of the queue, or taken care of completely perhaps. Would hate for treatment to be held up by red tape or insurance issues… can you even imagine how that would feel for you and your wife?” he asked, slowly turning back to look at David again, a blank expression on his face as he waited for David to catch on.
That was the final straw. David had tolerated this asshole more than enough already, but his patience was through, he was done being nice. It wasn’t enough that Eacott had hinted at threats against Regan, Jay and Kath, but now he was blatantly threatening Regan’s mom?! David was out of his chair and scrambling across the table before he even knew what he was doing. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” the New Jerseyite yelled as he dove on Eacott, causing his chair to rock backwards and the two men fell with it. “YOU NO GOOD FUCKING DOUCHEBAG!” he continued to yell as he fell on top of Eacott and brought an arm back for a punch that bust the mogul’s lip on impact. “FUCK YOU! COME NEAR MY FAMILY, I DARE YOU! FUCK TRY IT EACOTT, I FUCKING DAREYOU!” he yelled, and was barely even aware of the sound of glass shattering as somebody broke into the room moments after David had first attacked. He got one more good blow in though, before he was grabbed by the jacket and thrown what seemed to be half way across the room before crashing into two of the chairs that had surrounded the conference room table, his ribs landing heavily on an arm of one of them, driving the air out of his lungs.
He was ready for the hands that grabbed at him, even if he was powerless to do anything about it; he was winded and his ribs ached painfully, he wondered if he’d even gone as far as breaking one, given previous experience he had in that regard, it was an all too familiar feeling for the veteran from New Jersey… but the blow that he had been expecting to follow the hands on him didn’t come, nor did a hand around his throat once again, just as it had when he had his last brush with Eacott’s hired goon Thaddeus previously. But instead of blows, it was the wall he connected with. David found himself pushed face first against the wall with an arm twisted up his back and as he turned his head to the side to see what was coming, it was the blue of a uniformed Los Angeles beat cop that greeted his peripheral vision. “DO NOT RESIST!” the cop, a big guy with broad shoulders and an Irish complexion, told him severely, leaving David with no uncertainty about how much trouble he was in. “As of this minute, you are under arrest! You have the right to remain silent; anything you do say may be used against in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand?!” he asked, reeling the miranda off at speed as he clamped cuffs around David’s wrist. “I asked if you understand?!”
“I understand,” Helms said monotonously, his face still pressed up against the wall, making it increasingly difficult for him to breath, on top of the fact that the wind was driven right out of his body by the original blow and his crashing into those chairs. “I’m coming quietly. I’m not going to fight,” he added, trying to reassure the cop that he wasn’t going to cause problems. He was in enough shit already, he knew that; the last thing he needed to do was add to that already considerable list.
“Smart move,” the cop said, as he pulled David’s other arm up behind his back to slip that into the cuffs too. David hadn’t heard the police arrive, he’d barely heard the glass breaking when they bust into the room, and he had assumed that it was Thaddeus and the building’s security that had made entry, but as the cop dragged him away from the wall, David sour four more cops standing there, one of them standing with Eacott and Thaddeus and the other three in conversation with the security team. They all stopped to stare as the arresting officer started to walk David towards the door, and the eyes of one of the cops doubled in size, leaving David with no question about whether he’d just been recognised or not. This guy knew who he was, and he wondered how long it’d be before this shit was all over the internet. “I’m gonna get this guy to the precinct. You can handle things here, right Jensen?” the arresting officer said to the second cop that had been talking to Eacott.
“No problem, sarge,” the second, much younger cop said. “CCTV is on the way, Flynn has gone with one of the guards to grab copies of everything… I’ll finish up here and get everything brought to the station.”
“Alright,” the officer said, doubling his grip on David’s cuffs with one hand, while the other held him tightly by the shoulder; even in cuffs, it seemed that the guy was wary of David trying to make a break for it. That or he simply had plenty of previous experience with people doing just that and did so by default. But the fight had left David’s body, he was letting the cop guide him without hesitation. What the fuck had he done? This was a huge mistake, a fucking huge mistake and he was going to pay for it. “Move it buddy, and don’t even think about trying to make a run for it, you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, bro…” David mumbled, his head hung low in shame as glass crunched under his feet as the cop started to frog march him towards the door.
He didn’t quite make it before Eacott reached out and caught him by the elbow. “I hope you’ve learned a lesson here today, David?” the mogul asked, a regretful expression on his face that painted a different picture to the one his eyes were telling. David could see his joy in them, even if the cops hadn’t noticed it. He was enjoying this. “And I really am sorry it came to this…”
“...fuck you,” David mumbled, half under his breath, but it still got a hint of a smirk form Eacott, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly as the cop shoved David in the back to make him walk. He could feel the attention of everyone in the room on him as the cop strongarmed him across the floor towards the elevator he’d first used to get up here. The doors were held open, one of the building’s security waiting there with his hand at his hip where a pistol was halstered. Jesus… what if one of those fucks had shot me?! David thought to himself as the guard turned to step into the elevator, clearly planning to accompany Dave and the cop downstairs. How had he been so stupid?! Why had he let his emotions rule his decisions instead of trying to be pragmatic?! The red mist was gone, forced out by the blue of the cops’ uniforms and now all he could see was how many different mistakes he’d made. For the first time in years… many years… David was being led away by police, wearing handcuffs and a deep sense of shame. That had never been a good look on him, and it didn’t look good now either, as he was pushed into the elevator and he caught sight of himself in the mirrored walls inside. The cop positioned him in front of the nearest surface with his back to the door and the cop and security guard took up positions behind him, in case he tried anything. But he didn’t have the will to do so even if he wanted to now, he was entirely spent. All that rage and emotion burnt up and now he felt hollow. His head sagged and he stood with his forehead pressed against the glass of the mirrored walls, his eyes closed so he didn’t have to look at himself or the other men in the elevator. “Fuck…” he muttered to himself under his breath. “Fucking idiot…” he finished before falling silent. Words that would prove to be the last to escape his mouth until he made it to the precinct. He didn’t choose to express his right to remain silent… he simply how no words for how much he had fucked up or how pathetic he felt. They’d come eventually, but right in that moment? They failed him. Just like he was failing his family…
YouTube Livestream
Location: Denver, CO
Date: 01/23/2021
As the Youtube live stream begins, the image briefly flickers up on screen before bursting into an eye watering vision of pixels and half-pictures before the connection stabilizes and we finally get to see the picture as intended. On screen is none other than David Helms, wearing a plain grey t-shirt as he stands in what appears to be a rooftop terrace bar, empty chairs and tables sitting behind him as the view of a cityscape plays out in the background. “Denver Colorado and people all around the world, this… is Last Grasp Of Reality!” he says, which receives a fairly substantial cheer from a crowd that are somewhere out of camera shot, that leaves a grin plastered across his face as he continues to speak.
“You’re joining me and a couple dozen loyal SCW fans...” he continues, turning so that the fans in question a few feet away are pictured behind him instead of the city skyline, “...at the 54Thirty bar at the top of the Le Meridien hotel, right here in downtown Denver - which I’ve been told is the highest open air bar in the whole of Colorado at almost five and a half thousand feet up - for another of these live streams as we prepare for David versus Goliath ego round two, right over there somewhere,” he says pointing his finger vaguely over his shoulder somewhere, “at the former Pepsi Center, now known as the Ball Arena!”
The fans behind Dave raise another cheer and he grins as he looks at them for a moment on the phone screen before turning his eyes back to the camera. “Man, it feels great to be back doing this again,” David confesses, continuing to grin before turning so that his back is once again facing the view of the city instead of the fans. “I think I’d managed to convince myself while retired that I didn’t miss filming these things, because I managed to get by without pining for addressing the camera like this… but since coming out of retirement and being back here regularly, these last few months while out injured have fucking sucked,” he continues, shaking his head before reaching for a tumbler that sits on a table close to him.
He takes a sip of his drink, an amber liquid over ice, before placing the glass back down. “And knowing that we’re only twenty four hours away from the first pay per view of twenty twenty one, well, what better way than to kick off the pay per view schedule with a bang than going back to the well in terms of what match is headlining the whole shebang, huh?!” he asks, excitedly.
“And I don’t think I even have to mention how huge this main event is in all honesty, but I’ll get to that in a moment,” he says, with a nod. “Because I kind of just want to take a moment to savour the fact that I’m here in January, twenty twenty one, basically coming up to one year since the unmasking of those pesky Lucho’s in a reveal that would kickstart everything for me that leads to this point…”
“I mean, until that moment, El Lucho Venti was just a comedy routine, wasn’t he?” he asks, and somewhere off camera, one of the fans shouts the word ‘coffee’ out loud, which draws a cheer. “Exactly bro. Death before decaf, am I right?” he asks, getting another big cheer, which makes him chuckle. “Lucas, Jason and me… the three of us unmask, and fast forward a year and look at us… Lucas is a tag champ with Chris Cannon of all people, I’m standing here as the true SCW World Heavyweight Champion and Jason… well, he’s not cleared to compete still, so maybe that’s a poor example, but I just didn’t want to leave him out, alright?” he ends, lamely, grinning sheepishly.
“I mean, if I didn’t mention him, I’d never hear the end of it anyway,” he continues, laughing. “But he is here in Denver right now, ready to accompany me to the ring tomorrow night in what I hope will be as great a start to twenty twenty one twenty-twenty ended. Because while I may have been out injured, damn did you guys do a great job of reminding me just how much I love this company and it’s fans!” he says, getting another chorus of cheers from those in the background, watching him cut his promo, live.
“When I retired in two thousand fifteen, you guys voted to make me the twenty-fifteen Male Star of the Year, I guess as a thank you for everything I’d done over the years?” he continues, once the people watching him have calmed down. “And in twenty-twenty, the year I make my return to the ring… Well, like I said on at the End of Year Special, I guess I had a pretty good return, huh? And I’ll be the first to hold my hands up and say that I was as surprised as anyone to do as much as I did last year, because even now there’s part of me that wonders if I’m crazy, risking my entire legacy on taking a punt at returning to the ring… but I think it’s fair to say it worked out, huh?”
‘It sure did’ a fan shouts, which leaves Helms chuckling and he has to take a second to straighten his face again before he can continue. “But last year, as far as I’m concerned, was just the beginning…” he says, allowing himself to be a little more serious now.
“Because I know that last year was a honeymoon period of sorts,” David admits, as he continues to broadcast to youtube via his phone in his outstretched hand. “It was a shock to some that I returned, and it was a shock to most when I returned and seemingly managed the impossible by winning Taking Hold of the Flame and then the main event of Rise to Greatness, but now the hard work begins, doesn’t it?”
“Because here I am, ready to once again step into the ring with Bree Wingecaster, to unify the SCW World Title with the Interim SCW World Title, and this time around, the pressure is on me to show that last year wasn’t a fluke,” he admits, looking solemn. “Bree may be full of shit for the most part, but while she says it was a fluke that I beat her, I can’t deny that tomorrow is my chance to prove that it wasn’t and remind her that while she may be great, there’s people who’ve done everything can do before her and that some of us did it better.” he says, his lip momentarily curling up in one corner before he manages to control it and save himself from smirking.
“And Bree doesn’t think I can do it…” David continues, which gets a big boo from the people watching a few feet away.
“Two weeks and change ago in Detroit, Bree once again polluted the airwaves at the start of Breakdown,” David continues as the fans settle down again, though one or two boos continue as David speaks. “And just like half of last year, she can’t keep my name out of her mouth! And just like last year, she has to throw around opinion like it’s fact because her fragile ego can’t even begin to contemplate the notion that David Helms may just be a better wrestler than she is. That’s one of the many differences between me and people like her though, because I know that sometimes, it’s simply a fact in life that other people are just better than you.”
“And it may not be the same two nights running, either...” he continues, explaining what he means. “Two fighters could face one another for six nights running and you may end up with a different result each night, it just happens that way sometimes…”
“But not in Breeland, where everything is Ambitchous-themed and smells of Dior perfume and hypocrisy,” he continues, scoffing. “I’m still laughing two weeks on, from when Bree told all of you that she doesn’t like to make excuses… because in The World According To Bree, she’s not one to make excuses and yet we learn that anyone who beats her is either lucky, or it was a fluke, or she was cheated, or they cheated, or some convoluted remix of several of them together! Without fail, one hundred percent of the time, there’s a ready made excuse available for the very next show after she loses, and sometimes it’s valid, I’ll give her that… but others? She’s reaching so far that Stretch Armstrong called and asked if he can have his fucking gimmick back!”
“And don’t even get me started on that fucking ‘I let them win’ bullshit, because that’s the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard in the twenty two years I’ve been doing this,” he says, looking disgusted. “But hey, I guess schoolyard insults have proven successful enough for her in the past that it only makes sense that she’d pick excuses you’d hear in kindergarten to apply to the life of a near thirty year old woman so knock yourself out Bree, go right ahead. Feel free to tell people you let me win when I drop you with New Jersey Neckbreaker and once again pick up the one two three, just like back in Minneapolis… if it makes you feel any better about being you, then go right ahead sweetheart, you go Glenn Coco.”
Helms closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, but then he lets out a laugh as he opens his eyes to look at the camera again. “Sorry… just trying to process the fact that I’ve just used a fucking Mean Girls quote in a promo, as a forty year old man,” he explains, chuckling to himself. “Still, can’t deny the fact it’s pretty fitting, all things considered. Bree Lancaster, Mean Girls… massive bitches acting like complete thundercunts and attempting to ruin the lives of everyone around them? Yeah… you tell me if there’s a connection…”
“Thing is Bree, I’m not looking to try and hang onto stuff that’s already happened,” he says as he moves on from the Mean Girls reference. “That’s what you’ve been doing for weeks, ever since it was announced that I was returning and that you’d have to face me to unify the belts if you got past Jordan. You’ve been dwelling on things that have already happened; bragging about how you pinned me in a tag match before Rise To Greatness, talking about how my win at Greatness was a fluke and that I was lucky… but while you’re raking through cold ashes to find a few dying embers that still remain viable, I’m out here looking for new ways to blaze a trail!”
“Which is kind of an odd mindset for someone who officially turned forty a couple of months ago, I guess,” he considers, grinning sheepishly again. “But here’s the thing, Bree. And this is an important thing, because it sums the main difference - but thankfully not the only one - between us… I’m not trying to maintain a status quo, I’m trying to evolve and learn new things and grow! While you’re busy talking about how the likes of you and Sienna are the top of this business, I’ve been busting my ass in training, learning new tricks, studying, and not just assuming I’m better than you and will prove it when we throw down!”
David shakes his head. “I know there’s a real chance you beat me tomorrow,” he admits, shrugging. “And if you do, well, it’s been a wild ride I guess. I did more than anyone expected I would following my return, Trios, Flame, Greatness, and I still have a Trio’s contract in my back pocket should I need it, so for me there’s no real threat…”
“...but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just roll over and let you have whatever you want like a pussy, either!” he states, glaring at the cameraphone in his hand with intensity. “You may have been competing for the last three months while I was out injured, and we both know I’m still going to be a little rusty… but that three months of ring work doesn’t compare to the fact that I’ve been around this business for more than twenty two years now, which is more than two thirds of your lifetime, and if you don’t think I’ve learned a thing or three in that time about controlling a match regardless of the circumstances then you’re not just arrogant Bree, but you’re ignorant too!”
An ‘ooh’ comes from the fans watching along as David glances briefly at them before his eye shift back to the camera. “But hey, what do I know?” he says, with a shrug. “I’m just the guy that’s apparently to blame for everything, isn’t that pretty much how it goes? I can’t even attempt to comfort someone without getting blamed for putting ideas in their head, apparently… which is pretty fucking ironic given the games you play with your own niece, Bree, but unlike you I don’t air that kind of laundry in public. But let’s just say that if one of us is a manipulative bitch, it definitely isn’t this bish!” he says, pointing at himself with his free hand before shaking his head.
“But the whole of the SCW fanbase got a taste of the real Bree Lancaster last week, didn’t they? Not even blood can save you from a tongue lashing if you don’t follow the carefully created narrative laid out by Lady Lancaster of Cuntsville,” he says, and a sharp intake of breath can be heard from several of the onlookers but David ignores them to keep going. “I’m sure I could go on about the hypocrisy and shitty stuff you’ve said or done, but truthfully, I feel like I’d just be wasting my time anyway…”
“The thing I want you to actually take from this though Bree, is a simple one,” he says, shifting subjects a little as he prepares to end the stream.
“I want you to ask yourself this,” he says, making sure that he looks right down the camera so that Bree has no choice but to look him right in the eyes when she watches. “Me, Jason, Dom, Jordan, Kennedy Street, James Evans, Owen, even Jaina last week… if so many people have had problems with you, in some way shape or form over the last twelve months, and that’s only a small selection of the people I could name, too… but if all of those people have had an issue with you at some point… what’s the common denominator between them, huh?!”
“Problems fixed or not with some of them, you’ve had problems with so many people Bree, and if that doesn’t show who the actual problem is, then I dunno what will…” he says, before shrugging. “But you’ll probably have an excuse for that too, I imagine. People like you always do, just like I already explained. So I’m gonna save my breath and leave you with this, Bree.”
“Tomorrow night… we do something that has happened several times before,” he says, starting to round up the stream. “Tomorrow, we face off to unify two forms of the same belt, and one of us leaves as champ, and the other leaves with an L on their record. I know mine can take that Bree, it has done in the past and I’m sure it will again, but you? Well, I can only imagine how beautiful the freakout will be if I somehow ‘get lucky’ again. How flukey can one person be, huh? But while you ponder that, I’ll leave you with this.”
Swapping from one hand to the other with the camera, David turns so that the fans are once again in the shot behind him rather than the Denver skyline. “It’s no secret that tomorrow night’s show is using ‘And So It Went’ by The Pretty Reckless as it’s theme… and that song has some pretty pertinent lines in there, but I want to concentrate on the chorus, because it’s so fucking fitting,” he says, making sure he can remember the words. “It goes, ‘The world does not belong to you, it don’t belong to you… it belongs to me’... and you can tell the whole world you’re the true world champion until you’re as blue in the face as Kennedy in that Shaun Cruze movie, but right now… the World title doesn’t belong to you, Bree. It belongs to me. I tried to give it up and was given it back, because this company knew that I was the rightful champ and tomorrow night, you may think you’re the best in the world, but just remember it’s me who walks into that arena as the true SCW World Heavyweight Champion, and I hope you're ready sweetheart, because tomorrow, you're going to have to work your ass off in order to leave with it! See you tomorrow night, Bree. Ready guys?” he says, looking over his shoulder before back to the camera. “One… two… three…”
“BANG!” the crowd behind David all shout in unison, some of them even doing the ‘Self High Five’ with it, which brings a grin to Helms’ face. And with that, the fans all rush in, surrounding Helms, cheering and jumping around with excitement. He opens his mouth to try and sign off, but given the noise, decides it simply isn’t possible and instead opts to simply wave before joining in with the chaos around him as he thumbs the end stream button to bring the stream to a close.
