STARRING:
[Crossing The Atlantic: Season 3 - Chapter 006]
.:| “Failure To Communicae” |:.
It was fair to say that Ryan Watson definitely had more than enough on his plate to be going on with, so the last thing he wanted was the extra serving of bullshit that had been heaped on his plate thanks to events that took place at Under Attack and the subsequent bullshit booking that came about as a direct result of it, and now his name was another on the list of people that apparently wanted Sasha D’s head for the way she had been handling the running of the company. But in truth, this was bigger than Sasha and her mishandling of things, this went way beyond management's reaction to a situation and was more about the actions of a group he had once proudly been a member of: The Infamous.
In truth, even Ryan had to admit that the way in which he and Autumn won the titles at Under Attack was pretty unfair… for a given value of unfair anyway, because nobody said that professional wrestling was fair to begin with and anyone who was going to act shocked when they got screwed over in some way shape or form probably wanted their head examined, because they evidently only had half a damn brain rather than the whole thing. But he did understand why a certain pair of ginger minge’s would be more than a little miffed at present, and it was only pretty much seen as a given that half the roster wanted Infamous’ collective heads on a spike too, which again, he understood. Ryan wasn’t an idiot, even if the general consensus was that he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, and it wasn’t as if he was ignorant to the fact that Infamous had been screwing with too many people for far too long for them not to have a queue of people all wanting to kick their arses at the earliest convenience… but that didn’t mean that he wanted to he dragged into it and was pissed off both with Christy for dragging him into the mess to begin with and with Sasha for forcing him to play a part in it!
Ryan Watson was not a member of Infamous. Ryan had not been a member of Infamous in years and he had no desire to be a member of Infamous.
Yes, he may still consider Zoe Sterling - aka Syren - as a friend, even if it was stretching the term more than a little, but he had never particularly enjoyed her wife’s company and Christy’s actions at Under Attack hadn’t served to bolster his opinion of her any, either. And as for that flaming wankbiscuit Alex Desoubraise, Ryan wouldn’t piss on his elderly, near crippled arse if he was on fire and Ryan was the only one with the power to exstinguish it! He hated the man known professionally as CHBK and had done for years now. The fact that Alex had weaselled his way back into the picture was nothing short of infuriating and the further away from the wrinkled Canadian he could be at all times, the better, as far as Ryan was concerned! But no… Sasha Drachewych, in her infinite bloody wisdom, had decided that the perfect solution was to book Ryan and Autumn by the side of Ravyn and Christy in an eight person tag match that basically forced Ryan to fight people who wanted the blood of Infamous, thus making him just as chuffing complicit in their shit and making him into a bloody liar to boot!
He had told the world at Under Attack, categorically and without even a hint of uncertainty, that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the new version of Infamous, and that was the gods honest truth. Ryan had extremely fond memories of his time in that group, he had made a name for himself in the company as part of it, replacing the she-Hulk Brittany Lohan when it was obvious that an upgrade was needed… but the past was the past and while he hadn’t expressed the thought, he found it kind of sad that Zoe, Christy and Ravyn were all trying to re-live old success by trying to continue the group when it wasn’t just past it’s sell by date but had decayed, been sent to compost and was now mixed with shit in order to help corn grow in a field in fucking Idaho or some other middle of bumfuck nowhere state in Central America. Choose your own corn growing state, the point would still stand. Ryan had no desire to live in the past, he didn’t want to rely on what or who he used to be in order to function, and as much as he respected Zoe, the fact that she wasn’t doing the same made him question her sanity and intelligence more than he should be for someone he respected and had once been pretty close with.
But no, Sasha Drachewych, she was a genius wasn’t she? And Ryan knew it was vogue in SCW these days to have a problem with management and to blame a member of the Drachewych family for all life’s problems, and part of him hated that he was adding to the already-considerable list of whiny twats that wanted to blame Sasha for everything but the facts couldn’t lie, could they? If Sasha had booked a rematch for the tag titles, he couldn’t complain. It was obvious that Twin Magic deserves another crack of the whip given what happened at the pay per view and Ryan may be a Gobshite, but he wasn’t oblivious to how the business worked. Hell, he would actively encourage Sasha to book that match, because while he may not be one to give fucks about a lot of things, or indeed any at all if the branding was any indication… he still knew the difference between right and wrong and Ryan may be many things but he was not a coward. If Twin Magic wanted another shot at the titles then give them one! He and Autumn would do their thing and show how they became champs in the first place!
The whole situation was just awkward for Ryan, and to say he wasn’t pleased would be something of an understatement. “You should calm down dude,” Autumn told him as he paced back and forth in the hallway in front of the room that was going to serve as Sasha office while Breakdown was in the CHI Health Center. “You look like you’re about to blow an artery or something, and given that it’s the boss that you’re pissed off with, the last thing you want to do is lose it completely…” she tried to reason with her husband, but Ryan wasn’t hearing any of it. “Seriously baby, do you really want to mob the boss the second she walks around the corner? I mean, if you want to convince her to cancel this match, this isn’t the right way to go about it, is it? Just accosting her in the hallway and making demands?”
“An’ what should’a do instead, eh love? Leave a nice little note askin’ her to gimme a call so we can ‘ave a chat at ‘er earliest convenience?!” Ryan fired back, rolling his eyes. “Aye, no probs love, maybe she’ll fit me in ‘er calendar in a couple’a weeks, maybe she can maybe squeeze me in just before christmas, long after there’s any fuckin’ point in discussin’ it!”
“Alright dude, there’s no need to bite my head off is there?” Autumn asked, scowling at Ryan. “I’m just saying that there’s a right way to go about things and a wrong way. This feels like the latter to me…” she tried to reason again, realising that getting angry would only add fuel to his fire. “Besides, what happened to Zero Fucks To Give, huh? This kind of looks like you do give a fuck, and that’s meant to be the polar opposite of what we decided we were gonna be about, right?”
“Some shit’s worth gi’in’ a fuck a’bart, love!” Ryan replied sternly. “Dunt get me wrong, a get it, alrate? A mean, we did say we were gonna stop gi’in’ a fuck a’bart stuff an’ t’ be fair, a think we’ve done a crackin’ job’a doin’ just that… but am not fuckin’ ‘appy a’bart this love an’ that twat needs t’ realise that she’s dropped a bollock bookin’ this match!”
“And you think you’re going to convince her to just cancel it by what, shouting at her?” Autumn said, frowning. It was clear that Ryan had no real plan on how he was going to convince Sasha the booked match was a mistake, he just wanted to vent about it to the source rather than wasting it on the monkey rather than the organ grinder. But what would that actually achieve? “The match is booked, baby. It’s already announced, it’s going to happen!”
“All cards’a subject t’ change,” Ryan parroted at Autumn, quoting the thing actually written on posters and advertisements for all shows. He had her there, and he knew it. “They fuckin’ tell people that as par f’ the course… an’ a know it’s usually ‘cause they wanna be able to pull matches or swap shit up in case’a injuries an’ what not… but why not also ‘cause they fucked up? Why not ‘cause they made a bad call an’ wanna rectify it, eh?”
“And what if they don’t want to rectify it, huh?” Autumn asked, playing devils advocate. “Have you thought about the fact that they may be banking on the controversy to ensure they sell tickets or get the audience share they’re wanting? Do you think the booking committee just pulls matches out of their ass, Ry? They don’t, okay? They knew exactly what they were doing when they booked this and all you’re doing is playing into their hands…”
“Then al tell Sasha to stick it up ‘er arse an’ t’ not expect me in London next week, waint a?!” Ryan told her, folding his arms as he leant against the wall by the office door. “A said a waint gi’ a fuck a’bart stuff anymore… which includes Sasha Drachewych an’ any threats she wants t’ chuck my way an’ all. Am not some wet be’ind the ears little shit who’s just ‘appy t’ be ‘ere, if they’re gonna start fuckin’ around wi’ me career al just walk!’
Autumn stared in disbelief; how could Ryan say something like that after they had just won the World tag titles for the second time since starting to team together? “You wouldn’t do that…”
“Watch me,” Ryan told her and Autumn looked for any sort of sign in his face that he was bluffing and failed to find anything whatsoever. “Am tellin’ y’ love, they’re makin’ a fuckin’ joke art’a me rate nar; a told the ‘ole world that a weren’t owt t’ do wi’ Infamous at Under Attack… an’ first match after a teld the ‘ole world that, ‘ere we fuckin’ are, bein’ booked in an eight man wi’ Ravyn an’ Christy as us partners! It’s bullshit love an’ am not standin’ f’ it!”
“So what, you’ll throw the last six months away just because of one match that you’re unhappy with competing in?” Autumn asked, increduclous. “Jesus Ry, how fucking pigheaded are you, huh?!”
“Y’ knew that all along love, ain’t no good moanin’ a’bart it nar, is it?” Ryan told her as he folded his arms across his chest.
“Ugh, there’s just no fucking point trying to talk to you when you’re in this kind of mood!” Autumn said in frustration before looking up the hallway in time to see the person Ryan was waiting on walk around the corner. Sasha Drachewych stepped into view, wheeling a roll along with one hand and her phone to her ear with the other and Autumn started walking in her direction. Sasha, spotting Autumn and Ryan, hurriedly said something into her phone before ending the call. “Good luck with him; you’re gonna need it,” Autumn said as she walked straight past Sasha without even pausing to look at her, but Ryan didn’t even notice that Autumn had stormed off in a huff, his gaze was locked on the boss.
“Ryan, this is something of a surprise,” Sasha said as she reached the door to her temporary office and pushed the handle down. “I won’t say a pleasant one, because something tells me this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but nevertheless, do come in…” she told the Brit as she entered her office and switched the lights on. The office was just like any temporary office at any arena, nothing to write home about by any stretch, but Sasha had to be used to that after being involved with SCW for as long as she had, and she didn’t even bat an eyelid as she wheeled her case over to the desk and walked around behind it to sit down. “Please… sit…” she said, motioning to one of the empty chairs that sat in front of the desk, but Ryan ignored the invitation entirely, walking to the desk but choosing to remain standing.
“Let’s cut the pleasantries shall we love?” he said to her, making sure that Sasha was all too aware of his displeasure before he even got started.
“Fair enough. Though i really would prefer you took a seat if we’re going to go through some things that you clearly have on your mind,” Sasha told him, her voice still calm but making it clear that it was more of an instruction than a request this time. “I don’t want to feel threatened by our employees and you looming over the desk like that comes across as a little intimidating, don’t you think?”
“Fine!” Ryan snorted, grabbing the chair nearest to him to yank it out in one motion before he slammed himself down into it, the joints creaking slightly under the impact.
“Better,” Sasha told him, her voice remaining calm. “So… what can I do for you, Ryan?”
“Welll ad ‘ave thought that much were bloody obvious,” Ryan said, staring at his boss with disbelief etched on his face. “A mean, ‘ow many reasons can y’ think of f’ me bein’ ‘ere before you on a show night, bein’ this pissed off, eh?!”
“Well, one reason does come to mind above all others, but I’m giving you the opportunity to tell me rather than jumping to conclusions,” the boss told him, being diplomatic.
All it got was a scoff. “Aye, ‘cause that means sweet fuck all ‘ere, don’t it Sasha?” he asked, though it was fair to say that there wasn’t really a question there. “What the ‘ell’s goin’ on wi’ this match next week, eh?! Seriously, are you an’ rest’a the bookin’ committee art’a y’ bloody minds?!”
Sasha let out a long sigh, pulling her chair forward so that she could lean her arms on the desk. It was obvious that she was in no mood to deal with Ryan’s drama, but Sasha had proven to be a boss that would at least hear any employee out before shutting them down and it was obvious from her body language that, while she would rather not be dealing with this right now, she was at least going to try and go over whatever issues Ryan had with him before he was dismissed. “Ryan, I appreciate you’re a little unhappy with the situation, but--”
“Unhappy wi’ situation? Am bloody furious wi’ it!” he snapped, butting in and speaking over Sasha before she could get any further. “Did a single fuckin’ word a said at Under Attack get through t’ you an’ whichever crack monkeys helped mek the decision to book this match?! A couldn’t ‘ave bin any clearer Sasha; a want nothin’ t’ do wi’ Infamous. Nowt, zilch, nadda. NOTHIN’! It were bad enough that bint Christy went an’ stuck ‘er oar in an’ took Marie art before the match in St. Louis, but come on love, did it even occur t’ y’ that bookin’ us wi’ them as part of a four person team were only gonna mek the situation worse?!”
“I appreciate that point of view Ryan and yes, we did consider it,” Sasha told him calmly, though it was easy to tell that she was annoyed at the way Ryan was speaking to her. She did well to keep a lid on her own emotion though, as she continued. “But this isn’t about showing that you are working with Infamous in any way, this is about booking a match where the people on the other side of the ring have issues with them and two of that number also have a claim to want to get a shot at you and Autumn also…”
“So what, y’ couldn’t just book a couple’a fuckin’ tag matches over the next few weeks, eh?!” Ryan scoffed. “Aye, ‘cause that wunt ‘elp wi’ tag division would it, havin’ a few more tag matches ‘ere an’ theer… nah, y’d rather basically mek me art t’ be a fuckin’ liar by dumpin’ me on’t side’a two twats that ad rather be facin’ that teamin’ wi’!”
“Ryan, I understand your viewpoint, I really do.” Sasha assured him, but Ryan wasn’t having any of it.
“What a load of bollocks!” Ryan told her angrilly. “If y’ understood me viewpoint, y’ wouldn’t ‘ave booked the fuckin’ match t’ begin wi’, would y’?! Once upon a time, me an’ them lot were on alrate terms, al gi’ y’ that… but that were before that twat Alex Desoubrais got in me ‘ead an’ convinced me t’ turn on the bloke who did more f’ me in this country than anyone else up t’ that point! An’ Christy… last time me an’ ‘er talked, she were threatenin’ to cut me bollocks off if I ever ‘urt Autumn again, so funnily enough, am not exactly lookin’ forward t’ standin’ at ringside wi’ ‘er, y’ know what a mean?!”
“Ryan, I need you to calm down,” Sasha told him, sternly but without her own anger flaring. “As I have just told you, I can understand your position, but this was the best possible solution to various problems. Twin Magic wanted to get their hands on Infamous after Christy attacked Marie before your match at Under Attack. Jordan Majors has had her own issues with Infamous going back months and Jake Starr is… well, Jake Starr is Jake Starr, I don’t think I need to quantify that one. As for you and Autumn, do you not think that Twin Magic deserve a chance to face you once again?”
“Aye, a do, am not refutin’ that!” Ryan told her sincerely. He wasn’t, he was more than happy to admit that Marie and Kim deserved a rematch thanks to the bullshit that went down at Under Attack… but that was an entirely different prospect to the match he was booked to compete in next week. “An’ if y’ wanted to rate some wrongs theer then why dint y’ just book that bloody rematch?! Twin Magic against Zero Fucks, tag belts on’t line! Not this bollocks, stickin’ me in’t corner wi’ them two bitches, knowin’ full well it takes a gret big dump all over what a’ve been sayin’ since a came back to this dump!”
“And it was your choice to come back to this ‘dump’ Ryan, nobody forced you to return!” Sasha scolded him, starting to show signs that she wasn’t going to humor him for much longer. “Ryan, this is a professional wrestling company, and sometimes that means you have to compete in matches that you are less than happy about, but that is the way the business works. If you don’t like it then perhaps we have reached a point where we should reconsider your return to the company.”
Ryan actually laughed. A cruel, humourless laugh. “So that’s y’ answer to people questionin’ y’ decisions is it? Not t’ explain an’ debate an’ maybe try an’ reach some sort’a middle ground, just tell em it’s your way or the ‘ighway an’ show ‘em where the fuckin’ door is?!”
“It’s not exactly how I’d have put it, but it’s a fitting analogy,” Sasha said, her patience all but spent. “I have had enough of SCW employees coming into my office to make demands, accusations, complaining or whining about my decisions or those of the management. As showrunner, I should not have to sit here and constantly remind people that we are in charge and as employees it is your job to do just that. Your job!”
“Al do mine if y’ start doin’ yours prop’ly fest!” Ryan said, slamming his hands down on the desk as he half stood up from his seat. “Since climbin’ back in that ring, a’ve done nowt but perform t’ the best’a me ability, I ain’t kicked up a stink or bitched a’bart wantin’ opportunities or demands who a face an’ who a dunt, a’ve just done me job as y’ just put it… but since when is me raisin’ an objection a’bart bein’ forced t’ team wi’ two cunts a want nowt to do wi’ anywhere close to ressemblin’ what the likes’a Bree or Sienna do, eh?! If owt, a’ve been a model fuckin’ employee since a got back in’t ring, an’ wi’ merch that’s been doin’ steady fuckin’ business since me an’ Autumn decided on a tag name, a think a’ve got a long way t’wards doin’ this company a favor or two an’ all!”
Sasha took a deep breath and let it out slowly, clearly frustrated that she was already having to deal with primadonna whining before she had even managed to settle in for the night. She rubbed at her temples for a moment before returning her gaze back to Ryan. “Let me make this more simple for you Ryan, because this is something I want to nip in the bud straight away,” she told him, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. “Competing in this match is by no means an indication that you wish to re-join The Infamous. I have noted your objections and I appreciate that you will be competing under duress, I can even ensure that our commentary team stress that point if you wish, but make no bones about it Ryan, you are going to compete in that eight person tag match, or--”
“An’ what if a dunt?” Ryan interjected again, before allowing Sasha to finish speaking. “What if a decide a’ve got Zero Fucks t’ gi’ a’bart what y’ sayin’ an’ just don’t show up next week? What if a miss me flight an’ don’t mek it t’ London? What if a suddenly can’t find me passport so can’t travel? Then what, Sasha?”
“I can assure you Ryan, if you purposefully ignore my instructions, I will file your termination quicker than you can tell me how many fucks you have to give about me doing so!” Sasha told him in no uncertain terms. “Look, I get it, okay? And I’ve taken your complaint on board… but you have to understand that sometimes, you simply have to take part in matches that you don’t want to be involved in. And this is one of them. I won’t be making any changes to the already scheduled match and the choice of what you do with that information is yours. Just be aware that the consequences from your choice will also be yours too.”
Ryan glared at Sasha; if looks could kill then Ms. Drachewych would be a gonner and no mistake. But the boss was unphased by the death stare and Ryan knew it was no good. He stood up and kicked the chair out of his way, shaking his head. “What’s that expression, eh? Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss? Fittin’ that… ‘cause your old man were an arrogant prick an’ all,” he said, still glaring at Sasha, who just sighed.
“I think that concludes things Ryan. Have a good show,” she said and turned to grab her suitcase from beside the desk.
Ryan thought about saying more, about really doubling down on his threat to not turn up to Breakdown in London or flat out tell her that he wouldn’t be there. So what if she fired him; SCW wasn’t the only company in the industry, he could go anywhere. GCW would offer him a contract in an instant, and if that fat fuck Tommy Wasley could get a deal in EMERGE then he definitely could… but what was the point? The apple had definitely not fallen far from the tree and Sasha had learned the business at her father’s knee, after all. He was an arrogant prick who thought he knew better than everyone else and Sasha had evidently picked up the family trait. But then idas started to circle in his head as he exited Sasha’s office, slamming the door behind him for good measure. All Sasha had said, was that he had to be in London and that he had to take part in the match… she didn’t say how long for and what would happen if he walked off. Now that was an interesting line of thinking, wasn’t it? And you know… Autumn had said that he needed to remember that he was supposed to be living the No Fucks To Give lifestyle now. Surely that extended to matches too? Interesting… very interesting…
The sounds of London town filtered through the open window of the hotel suite that Ryan and Autumn had booked into for the show at the O2 Arena on the Greenwich Peninsula. Their hotel looked down over the dome of the arena, and it was a sight that Ryan had seen at least once a week from being around eleven years old. He may be competing under duress on Wednesday night, and he was still worked up about that fact, but it was also nice to be back in the city that he called home for some of the most formative years of his life, even if he was still billed from Sheffield and considered himself a Yorkshireman.
Ryan’s parents had moved to the big smoke when he was eleven, his mother relocating for a workplace promotion and Ryan had hated it at first, but as he settled in he began to realise just how great the big city could be. The multicultural surroundings opened up so many opportunities for a tweenager and as he got older he got to experience so many things that life back in Sheffield would never have offered him.
“Just promise me this isn’t gonna be one longwinded rant about Sasha,” Autumn said as Ryan got ready to once again livestream on youtube. He’d tweet the link out an hour earlier, hoping to drum up interest like he had the day before Under Attack for his last live stream. “The last thing we want is you going off on some diatribe, losing all focus on what we’re supposed to be concentrating on, dude…”
“Am mekin’ no promises love,” Ryan told his wife, not even bothering to deny that that was exactly what he intended to do. Exactly. “A’ve got a lot’a shit on me mind love… who’s to say what’s gonna come runnin’ art, y’ know?”
“Baby. Come on!” Autumn said with exasperation. “It’s one match dude, can’t you just let it go this once?!”
“Nah love, ‘cause that’s how y’ end up on a slippery slope, ain’t it,” Ryan informed her, shaking his head. “Y’ mek compromises, then next thing y’ know, y’ givin’ an inch but they’re takin’ a mile. An’ am not gonna let Sasha or whoever the fuck it is bookin’ shit mek a mug art’a me all the time!”
“It’s one match,” Autumn said, growing frustrated. “It’s not like they’re fucking you over every week, is it? It’s not like you’re being made to jump through endless hoops or getting thrown to the wolves every Breakdown. It’s one match having to team with people you don’t want to team with. It’s not that big a deal!”
“Maybe not t’ you, love… but it is t’ me, an’ if the Gobshite’a professional wrestlin’ just rolls over an’ teks that, what’s the point in me bein’ around, eh?” He asked, checking that his phone was ready before standing up and walking towards the balcony door. “W’aint be long love… once am done, we can go explore if y’ want?”
“Sure, whatever,” Autumn replied, noncommittally. She really wasn’t happy with the way Ryan was handling all of this and it showed in the tone of her voice… but it was all lost on Ryan, he didn’t even take on board what she said as he stepped out on the balcony and closing the door behind him, hit the button to go live with the Youtube broadcast.
[[START STREAMING]]
“Alrate dickheads?” he asks, smirking a little as he stands with his back to the edge of the balcony, showing Greenwich village behind him, the O2 Arena just visible below. “See that? Hold on,” he says, tapping at the screen and suddenly the camera flips around to the rear camera and he points it over the balcony to show the peninsula below. “Landon Tarn,” he says, in a horrible London accent. “It’s bin a while since a’ve bin back ‘ere, y’ know? Not just London, but England in gen’ral,” he says as he taps the camera button to flip back to the front facing camera so he can continue addressing the fans that are now tuning in for the stream. “Ain’t been back t’ ol’ blighty in way too long t’ b’ ‘onest wi’ y’... an’ a just wish it were under more favourable circumstances that a were back ‘ere this time, thought t’ b’ ‘onest, it’s under duress an’ nowt else… al get t’ that though, plenty’a time an’ shit… ‘cause it really is nice bein’ back, not just in me home country, but in a city where a spent a good few years’a me younger life. A know that ain’t no secret; a class me self as a Yorkshireman through an’ through, but a were eleven when me parents moved us darn ‘ere, an’ it were darn ‘ere where a truly found me lova’a pro-wrestlin’ an’ as luck would ‘ave it, a met me best friend in’t whole world, Yvonne Knight movin’ darn ‘ere an’ all. That’s how I ended up in’t industry, so it’s ‘er y’ve got t’ thank for havin’ t’ listen t’ this Gobshite every week, which is prob’ly enough t’ piss plenty’a y’ off, let’s be honest…”
“But bein’ back ‘ere… plenty’a mem’ries came floodin’ back, y’ know?” he continues, looking out over the city below for a second before turning his attention back to the camera. “A wrestled me first match not far from ‘ere, did y’ know that? Aye, just on’t other side’a the river on’t Isle’a Dogs, it were some crappy workin’ men’s club wi’ a ring that were damn near fallin’ t’ bits. Got beer chucked in me face by some old lad who said we were disturbin’ him as he tried watchin’ the horse racin’... thinkin’ back on it, it prob’ly weren’t the best place t’ be puttin’ on a wrestlin’ show. Wrong demographic in all ‘onesty… but can’t re-write history, can y’? Well, not unless y’ an orange goblin in charge of an entire country anyway, ‘cause that becomes a bit easier; just call it fake news an’ be done wi’ it. But am goin’ off topic, ain’t a? London tarn, Ryan Watson back in’t UK for Breakdown, ready t’ compete in front’a tens’a thousands in’t O2 Arena f’ the first time in god knows how long…” he says, thoughtfully. “Seriously, can any’a y’ remember when a were last competin’ in a ring over ‘ere in England? ‘Cause a sure as fuck can’t, it’s bin that long. A remember a tour over ‘ere in like, early two thousand twelve a think it were, back when me an’ Autumn were fest datin’. A took ‘er t’ meet me parents that tour, an’ we got stuck stayin’ at their house ‘cause they just assumed we’d wanna stay there instead’a the hotel we were booked in… so aye, that weren’t awkward in’t slightest. But it’s funny now am lookin’ back on it, even if it weren’t funny at the time,” he says, smirking to himself. “But a can ‘onestly say a dunt remember if a’ve bin back ‘ere t’ compete since, an’ if not, then it’s bin some time since a were ‘ere competein’ on me home turf, which is kinda sad when y’ come t’ think a’bart it…”
“...which only serves t’ piss me off even more’n I already were, t’ tell y’ the truth, ‘cause a were already bitter as fuck a’bart Breakdarn this week, an’ to realise it’s the fest time a’ve bin back in years f’ a match am fuckin’ livid a’bart? Aye, not good,” he admits, walking over to one of the chairs on the balcony to take a seat. “So, full disclosure time… a tried gettin’ art’a this match last week. Nowt t’ do wi’ who am meant t’ be facin’, couldn’t gi’ a fuck a’bart who a get booked against, Zero Fucks t’ Gi’ an’ all that… but aye, last Friday in bumfuck state, USA, hours before Breakdarn went on’t air, a were in Sasha D’s office, complainin’ a’bart this match that’s due t’ tek place tomorrow neet darn theer in’t Dome. See, a know a talk a lotta shit at times, Dickheads… but when a teld that bint Jessica Winters that a dint want owt t’ do wi’ Infamous now am back in SCW as an active competitor, a weren’t blowin smoke up ‘er arse, a meant every fuckin’ word’a it. An’ don’t get me wrong, a know a took advantage’a the situation when Christy stuck ‘er big fat nose int’a mine an’ Autumn’s business before the tag title match at Under Attack, but that don’t mean a were ‘appy a’bart that either. Am just not a fuckin’ idiot who looks a gift horse in’t mouth, y’ know? An’ a said it on twitter that if Kim an’ Marie or if Sasha wanted t’ postpone the tag match that neet, a wouldn’t a’ve complained, ‘cause what Christy did were bullshit’a the ‘ighest order, no doubt a’bart that, but it ain’t my problem that the Ginger Nutjob were adament that she were gonna face me an’ Autumn on her jack jones, so as far as am concerned, she were t’ blame fo’ them losin’ the straps… but f’ fuck sake, why the bloody ‘ell does that shite automatically mean a’ve gotta stand side b’ side wi’ Infamous this week when ad rather stand side b’ side wi’ any other cunt on’t roster but them?!”
Ryan shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he sighs. “Am not jokin’ either… anyone who openly wants t’ associate wi’ a twat like Alex Desoubrais wants their fuckin’ head checked, an’ if that means talkin’ down about people a used t’ consider friends then so be it! See, Syren, Ravyn an’ Christy can try and re-live past glories if they want, they can try an’ get the old band back together… but I ain’t interested in performin’ no greatest hits. Last thing I want - especially after the shite that Christy pulled at Under Attack - is people thinkin’ am jumpin’ on’t bandwagon an’ reppin’ the Infamous name, an’ thats why a tried gettin’ myself an’ Autumn pulled from the match last week, but Sasha weren’t havin’ any’a it. She were adament that the match were goin’ ahead, an’ that if a dint turn up to the O2, I’d be facin’ termination basic’ly… so what’s a bloke to do, eh?” he asks, frowning. “It’s obvious a dunt wanna be ‘ere, it’s obvious a’ve got no fuckin’ desire to stand wi’ Ravyn an’ Christy on that apron… but if a dunt do it, then am gonna lose me job, an’ as much as I almost wanna say fuck it an’ see if Sasha’s willin’ to follow through, do a wanna do that knowin’ that it could not only ruin’ Autumn’s run as a champ but also play into what Christ an’ Ravyn no doubt want? They’ve med no secret a’bart wantin’ t’ get their ‘ands on’t tag titles, an’ ‘ere we are, havin’ to team wi’ em against the team that should be gettin’ a tag rematch an’ some bint an’ her dickhead brother. Hi Jake! A mean, seriously though, the fuck ‘ave a done since returnin’ t’ justify this shite, eh?”
Ryan gets up and paces on the balcony for a moment before finally turning his attention back to the phone in his hand. “Last week, a thought a’bart maybe turnin’ up t’ the ring an’ then fuckin’ off again,” he admits, looking a little guilty. “Sasha said a had t’ turn up… she dint say a had t’ stick around once a were ‘ere. But am not gonna do that. Believe me, a wanna, but that wunt be fair on Autumn, would it? A mean, am not oblivious t’ just ‘ow much Christy has meant to ‘er over the years, y’ know? She took ‘er in, gave ‘er an ‘ome an’ safety an’ shit. An’ she were part’a Dark Fantasy back in’t day, so it ain’t like she ain’t connected t’ Ravyn either. So what kinda husband or tag partner would a be if a did that, eh? Just abandoned me own Mrs at ringside an’ fucked off again? But am tellin’ y’ nar… a win this week ain’t gonna be more important than tryin’ t’ ‘ave nowt t’ do with Infamous if a can ‘elp it. Am not gonna abandon me wife art theer t’morra neet… but am not gonna bend over backwards t’ stop the people that want to rip Christy an’ Ravyn a new one either. But Kim, Marie, Jordan and Jake need t’ understand this; go after them two all y’ want, there’s no love lost f’ me anymore, an’ a couldn’t care less… but come after Autumn ‘cause y’ think we’re in wi’ ‘em? Then it’s pers’nal an’ them am gonna come art all guns blazin’. Am not sayin’ that ‘cause a think am intimidatin’... a’ve got nowt t’ prove an’ me ego ain’t fragile enough t’ need t’ pretend am bigger or scarier than I am… but am not lettin’ Zero Fucks T’ Gi’ get dragged darn wi’ them two either! A may not wanna be in this match, a may not wanna team wi’ Infamous an’ a may want nowt to do wi’ any’a this… but that don’t mean am gonna be anybody’s birthday fuck either, an’ if it comes darn to it, am goin’ fo’ the throat! So keep that in mind, folks. Kim, Marie, Jordan an’ even you Jake… if y’ wanna try an’ kill them two, then fair enough. Knock y’ sen art, enjoy it… but don’t tar me an’ Autumn wi’ that same brush, ‘cause while we ain’t the most moral, upstandin’ pair on’t face’a the planet, we can all agree on one thing: we ain’t Christy an’ Ravyn. We aint Infamous. Thank fuck f’ that…” he says, managing to smirk a little as he reaches forward and pressed the end stream button on the screen. He knew it wasn’t the most conventional of promo videos… but how the hell do you promote a match you want nothing to do with? And at least he was honest!
[[STOP STREAMING]]
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Ryan walked back into the hotel suite where Autumn was still sat on the couch where he’d left her. She obviously hadn’t been watching the stream, though Ryan wouldn’t have been shocked to find out she could hear every word he said through the glass. “Got that out of your system?” she asked without looking up at him and Ryan nodded.
“Summet like that,” he replied, dropping down on the couch next to her. “A know y’ dunt get why am flippin’ art about this love, not properly anyroad… but it’s summet a feel strongly a’bart.”
“I know you do, dude. I just wished I knew why…” Autumn said, sighing. “I’m in no rush to rejoin Infamous either, but it’s only a match. We have them several times a week!”
“A know we do, but this’ns different,” Ryan admitted, throwing an arm around Autumn as she cuddled up to him. “F’ years, a flew the Infamous banner wi’ pride in me videos, an’ it meant summet t’ be part’a that group… but that wrinkly cockwomble Alex fucked all’a that. He turned me ‘ead an’ got me t’ fuck over the guy a were cloest wi’ in life. An’ that’s when Infamous lost it’s shine f’ me. An’ a know its probably water under the bridge an’ stuff nar, an’ stuff wi’ me an’ Lucas is all fine an’ dandy, but that moment’s stuck wi’ me ever since. A don’t do regrets love, not f’ the most part anyraod… but if a could tek one thing back, it’d be that neet. An’ t’ get lumped in with them lot again… a’ve gotta tek a stand love, a really ‘ave…”
Autumn looked up at him thoughtfully for several seconds, weighing up what he’d said. Finally, she nodded her head. “Okay,” she told him. “If it means so much to you baby, then I’m right there with you. No matter what happens, I’m by your side, Zero Fucks to Give about anyone else…”
“Zsero fucks t’ gi,” Ryan echoed, smiling before leaning down to kiss Autumn. Hearing those words did wonders for him and his guilt. So long as Autumn was on his side, that was all that mattered. And win or loss, Breakdown was no longer relevant. In twenty four hours time, it would all be over. He just had to hope for a quick resolution to the match. He didn’t care who won, he just wanted it over. Then he could concentrate on his own career goals instead, concentrate on Zero Fucks and ensuring they held onto the titles this time. Infamous didn’t matter. His marriage and their tag team did.