For the first time in a lot of years, more than he could probably remember given how terrible his bloody memory was at this point, Tommy Wasley actually felt like he finally had his life on track and believed that everything was going well for the young - relatively speaking - Yorkshireman.
His life had been steady for the most part, but he had always been what you’d call an underachiever, even from an early age. He was gifted and talented during his secondary school years, but never applied or pushed himself. He did so-so at college but didn’t push himself to attend university and while his wrestling career hadn’t been a failure, it hadn’t been the roaring success that he also believed it could have been.
In short, he had spent his life being okay at pretty much everything. Solid, but not great.
But in the last six or so months, maybe even the last year, everything had changed. And he wasn’t going to say the money was anything to do with it, that had simply opened certain doors that allowed him to get on the property ladder. He now owned not one but two houses, one he inherited back home in Doncaster and the other he had bought himself in Boston Mass, where he had started to build a new life for himself. He was working for not one but two big companies that had huge media deals to broadcast to millions of fans every show, he was travelling the world not just driving up and down the A1 motorway in order to perform for fans… and best yet, he was performing to packed out houses not just a hundred of so locals. Thousands of fans watched him compete in person every night and millions around the world!
And perhaps the best part of all, the biggest turnaround in his fortunes, was that he had finally found love. Coming from a bloke’s bloke like Tommy, that would come across as strange, especially given the shtick that he - along with his partner in crime Johnny Taylor - had perpetuated since arriving in EMERGE, that he was some sort of ladies man. IN truth, he wasn’t.
His confidence that he projected on screen had never been his true self. It was a projection, an act that he had turned into a character, and away from the ring he had a string of failed relationships and, unfortunately, that far outweighed his successful relationships. But Kimberly Williams had changed that. Yes, she was unconventional, yes she was crazy or a little out there, but much like Tommy, the package that was presented to the fans and the outside world wasn’t the entire picture, and Tommy Wasley could say that in a lot of ways, his feelings for that woman had somewhat spurred him on to improve himself inside of the ring too and turn his career into what it was slowly building to: a true locker room leader rather than the comic relief.
Tommy Wasley, in short, was happy. His life was good and he wouldn’t want it to change, not even for a solid gold toilet.
Tommy Wasley’s Home
Boston, Massachusetts
1st June, 2020
Coming in from the back garden, Tommy made his way to the fridge to grab another beer. He’d spent most of the morning grafting, putting the finishing touches on a deck that he’d been installing outside of the patio and now that the wet weather treatment was curing, he was relaxing with a well earned beer or six to celebrate that he had actually physically built something that hadden fallen to pieces within a few minutes. He was about to head back outside where Kimberly was waiting for him however, when the doorbell rang.
Closing the fridge he walked over to the door, beers in one hand as he turned the doorknob with the other. “Orate pal!” he said as he opened the door to reveal Johnny Taylor standing there. “How’s it goin’ mate?”
“Alright mate, you?” Johnny asked as Tommy stepped aside to let his former tag partner into the house, closing the door behind him.
Tommy offered Johnny one of the beers in his hand but for some strange reason Johnny declined. Tommy couldn’t help thinking to himself that that was strange but he just shrugged. “Aye, not bad mucka, bit knackered like,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “An’ trust thee to turn up after all the graft’s been done already, could’a done wi’ an ‘and earlier this week an’ all…”
“Oh yeah?” Johnny asked, not his usual self.
“Aye, been installin’ the deckin’ art back, but it’s pretty much done nar,” Wasley explained. “Come on, al show thee. Kim’s art theer waitin’, come ‘ave a drink wi’ us mate,” he added as he turned to head back to the doors that led out into the yard.
But Johnny stopped him. “Hang fire mate, can we have a word?” Johnny asked, and Tommy stopped in his tracks, looking confused.
“Everythin’ alreet pal?” Wasley asked as Johnny walked over to the couch and perched on the arm of it.
“Yeah, I guess,” Johnny said as Tommy placed the beer bottles down on the coffee table, making sure to put them on coasters to avoid staining the wood. That wasn’t lost on Johnny, and he shook his head before sighing. “What’s happened to you, bruv?” the Londoner asked, as Wasley took a seat on one of the chairs.
“What you on a’bart, pal?” he asked, confused, but Johnny gestured vaguely to the coffee table in front of him as if this served to offer some sort of explanation.
“I’m sorry mate, but you’ve changed and I’m not sure I really recognise you anymore,” Johnny said with a frown. “That… look at ya… putting drinks on a coaster delicately, doing DIY at home… I mean, building a deck? The only deck you’d have had anything to do with a year ago was a deck of cards as you tried to convince some random bird to join us for strip poker!” he said sadly before sighing again as he stood up. “You’ve changed mate, you’re… I dunno, domesticated or something… and it all started when you and Kimberly got together. Am sorry Tommy, but it did. I don’t even recognise you anymore…”
The words hit home like punches to the face, each fist connecting squarely with his chin, his cheek. He felt the blows landing one by one and he was shell shocked. “A’ve changed?” Wasley asked, the only words that came to him as he tried to process what Johnny was saying to him. He heard the words, he understood what they meant, but they didn’t make it through the filters to his actual mind to process them.
“You have mate, yeah,” Johnny said, nodding. “We used to have fun! We were a partnership, a team, and we’d be out raising hell every night, whether it was back in England, or in Canada or California… you, me, Cook, the three amigos, having a laugh and getting rat-arsed… but Cook’s fucked off and you… you’ve turned into the Stepford husband or some bollocks… and now I’m like some better looking, far funnier Jake Starr or something; the only Social Misfit remaining. Can’t remember the last time we even saw Cook, and if I didn’t travel back to the UK with you every every Emerge, I dunno when I’d see you either! I mean, come on mate, you signed with a second company just to spend more time with your mrs!”
That much had been true, Wasley had only signed with HKW Underground because it was where Kimberly wrestled and he wanted to spend more time with her now that they were official, but was that such a bad thing? He had achieved so much with Johnny as his partner, but he wanted to achieve things with his girlfriend too, and he didn’t see too much wrong with that. “Where’s all this comin’ from, pal?” Wasley asked, wanting to get to the route of the problem instead of just reacting to what Johnny was saying.
“Where’s it coming from?” Johnny asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mate, we’ve gone from living together in some grotty motel or living out of a campervan to hardly seeing one another unless I come over here or we’re off to England for shows… a miss me bloody mate!”
“It’s not like a’ve gone anywhere, pal!” Wasley told his friend, shaking his head. “Am still ‘ere, ain’t a? Am not dead or owt!”
“Tommy, you fucked off to the other side of the country from where we were living in order to be closer to Kim, and left me back in California,” Johnny told him, staring in disbelief. “You didn’t move down the street, you moved two and a half thousand miles, bruv!”
“Alright, so maybe am more’n a brisk walk away nar,” the portly Yorkshireman admitted. “But a’ve already teld ya that ya can stay ‘ere if ya want, it’s not like a’ve washed me hands’a ya, pal…”
“You moved… twenty five hundred miles…” Johnny said slowly, hoping that it would sink in. “You moved from California, leaving me in a campervan on Cook’s driveway, to buy a house closer to your girlfriend… and then you only said I could stay after you’d already done it. And don’t get me wrong mate, I’m happy for you and all that… but it still stinks. It’s like you’ve forgotten who the fuck you are since you got this bee in your bonnet about saving the company from them cunts in the Unforgiven and you’re trying to be someone you’re not… and then add in how you’re trying to play at Mr. Happy Families now as well… I dunno if I recognise you anymore.”
“Well ya cem a long way t’ tell me that pal, all things considered!” Wasley said, his emotions starting to get the better of him now. “Ya phone not workin’ or summer?!”
Johnny looked angry for a second, but he did his best to put a lid on it. “I came in person because we’ve got a flight this weekend,” the Londoner explained. “Invasion in Paris on Monday, or have you forgotten about that now your Billy big Bollocks, working two companies?”
“Well y’ wasted a journey pal,” Wasley said, shaking his head. “Am off to Sacramento on Thursday, ready fo’ Friday night’s show…”
Johnny’s jaw clenched and he glared daggers at Tommy for several seconds before throwing his hands up in frustration as he turned his back on his friend. “Fuck sake!” he exclaimed angrily before rounding on Wasley again. “See, this is what I mean, mate! Once upon a time, all we gave a fuck about were having fun and maybe having some success along the way… but now you’re juggling schedules, flying around the world and in your free time, you’re doing fucking DIY?! Jesus, what the fuck’s happened, huh?!”
“I decided to be an adult!” Wasley fired back, his Yorkshire accent slipping as he gave a serious answer to the question. “A grew up mate!” he started again, back to normal. “Was a meant t’ be livin’ art of a van for the rest’a me life? Was a meant to be sleepin’ in shitty budget ‘otels before ev’ry show? Am tryin’ t’ better me’sen Jon! Am not a teenager anymore pal, am thirty fuckin’ three! Half the twats from me year in school are married wi’ kids nar, an’ that’s not includin’ the slappers that got knocked up before we even left school… all me mates ‘ave got kids nar, married or in long term relationships, an’ what were I doin’ until a year ago? Listenin’ t’ you fart in y’ sleep in the confines of a bloody Winnebago!”
“We were living the dream though Tom!” Taylor replied, getting angry. “Or I thought we were, anyway… tag gold, Moustache Ride against the world… but it turns out your dreams weren’t the same as mine I guess…”
“Me dreams evolved mate!” Tommy replied, sadly. “We did it, we won them straps… but Emerge shitcanned the ‘ole division, what w’ we meant t’ do, start a formal protest to reinstate belts in a dead division?! An’ am not bein’ funny mate, but the shit that them wankers ‘ave done, someone needed to stand up t’ the Unforgiven an’ say enough were enough!”
“And it had to be you, huh?” Johnny asked, shaking his head. “The guy who was all about fun and enjoying himself two minutes beforehand… back in Miami, you just decided that you were gonna turn into the Yorkshire David Helms, huh? We already have one Helms in Emerge, we don’t need another!”
Wasley nearly pointed out that technically there were already two given one was a part owner but he bit his tongue. It was an unnecessary shot and not really relevant. “Am not bein’ anyone else mate, that’s the fuckin’ point! Am bein’ me! Am standin’ up t’ be counted an’ provin’ that a can mek a difference me self!”
“And turning your back on everything that makes you you in the process,” Johnny shot back at him, hitting what he thought was the nail right on the head.
Tommy went to reply but before he could open his mouth, Kimberly’s voice cut through, distracting both men as they turned to see her standing in the doorway from outside. “WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?!” she yelled and Tommy nearly laughed, or would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so laughable to begin with, but Johnny simply shook his head and, rolling his eyes, turned to head for the front door.
“Forget it,” Johnny said, reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll see you in Paris bruv, if you can be bothered to come find me when you get into town that is,” and without giving Tommy a chance to reply, he was through it and the door was slamming shut behind him.
Kimberly walked over to where her boyfriend sat. “Something I said?” she asked, looking worried that maybe she had driven Johnny away when she announced her arrival in the room by yelling out loud in confusion.
“Nar love, somethin’ he said,” Wasley said, glaring at the door as if daring Johnny to walk back in before turning back to Kimberly. Standing up, he gave the redhead a quick kiss before grabbing the beer bottles from the table. “Come on, let’s get art side an’ enjoy the rest’a the sun while we’ve got it, eh?” he said, choosing to ignore the situation that had just taken place in his living room. Kimberly nodded and skipped off for the doorway again, heading back outside and leaving Tommy to follow. He hated to see her go but loved to watch her leave… or normally he did anyway. This time, his mind was otherwise occupied. Had he changed? Yeah, undoubtedly so. But while Johnny didn’t seem too happy about that fact, Tommy was absolutely sure it was for the better. And that was how he justified everything, that he was growing. And maybe Johnny didn’t like that… but Tommy’s career had benefited from it. And he hoped that would continue to be the case, too… whether Johnny bitched about it or not.
“Nar then lads an’ lasses… or should a say bonjour garcons et filles… probably butchered that, dint a? Ah well, it’s the thought that counts, ain’t it?
So ‘ere we are again, eh? Another Invasion a’bart t’ get underway an’ this time it’s live from la Ville Lumiere, gai Pariś as it were… an’ while a won’t mek any wise cracks a’bart France bein’ a country used t’ Invasions or owt, am hopin’ t’ see some’a that welcomin’ hospitality when EMERGE rolls in t’ town on Monday neet!
But it feels like while we’re makin’ several thousand miles worth’a leaps to stroll into Paris, EMERGE as a whole seems t’ ‘ave taken a massive step backwards lately, don’t it?
What’s that sayin’; ‘ere come’s new boss, same as the old’n, or something like that. Think it comes from a song by The Who or summet… but fuckin’ ‘ell, it dunt ‘alf apply ‘ere, does it?! A know a weren’t Drew’s biggest fan, but it seems his brother’s gone an’ brought in a replacement f’ runnin’ the gaff that’s bin t’ the same school’a thought as him, ‘cause fuckin’ ‘ell, what a shit show we’ve got on us ‘ands at the minute!
Am not bein’ funny, but YUYO gets concussed an’ instead of findin’ some interestin’ way’a decidin’ on who Jenni defends ‘er belt against, Danni just gus an’ adds Jenni t’ the Vanilla versus Willow match an’ meks that f’ the title?! Okay, so a tart who were stripped’a the right t’ challenge f’ the belt after she cunt behave ‘erself gets a shot anyway? Fuck my boots, talk about logical bookin’, eh?!
An’ then there’s me own situation, where - an’ am not sayin’ they dunt deserve it or owt - but the Duo’s titles are mothballed ‘cause no fucker wants t’ challenge f’ em, an’ instead of lettin’ the last two champs, Madeline an’ Desiree, challenge f’ the new title that’s brought in t’ replace the Duo’s championships, they’re both thrown at me instead?
Can’t wait t’ see what’s comin’ next… we gonna pluck some poor twat art the front row an’ gi’ em a shot at whoever walks art as Spirit Champion on Monday?
But ‘ey, am not one t’ complain’ a’bart stuff an’ do nowt a’bart it, am a? A’ve ‘ad me fare share of pastin’s lately, all ‘cause a stood up f’ the company an’ said a weren’t gonna let them cockwombles in’t Unforgiven run roughshod over the place, an’ am sure am gonna get more’n me fair share goin’ forward, an’ am not afraid t’ get me ‘ands dirty an’ never ‘ave bin! That’s why am gonna walk in t’ Invasion as proud Rush Champion an’ do what needs t’ be done t’ show me win over Jen weren’t a fluke, or that am somewhere a don’t deserve t’ be… ‘cause while it may not be the EMERGE Championship, am fuckin’ proud t’ be Rush champ! An’ am proud t’ work f’ this fuckin’ company an’ all… an’ that means faitin’ f’ it at every turn!
It teks more’n a candle to light up the darkness ‘round this place, an’ it’ll tek more’n bein’ a fan’a a former icon t’ truly represent this belt! Masters an’ Devna are gonna ‘ave to grow some bollocks an’ then sweat ‘em off again if the wanna beat me… an’ then when hopefully a retain, a go straight back t’ what a were tryin’ t’ do t’ begin wi’... civilise this fuckin’ place an’ run the wankers outa it!
‘Cause this company deserves better! It deserved better’n what it got under Drew. It deserves better than Silas Mason an’ Aiken Frost! It deserve’s champs y’ can be proud’a! It deserves competition’ that y’ can cheer f’! It deserves so much more’n it’s ‘ad in the last twelve months, an’ if a’ve got t’ sacrifice me own health t’ give you lot that then that’s what al do!
Everythin’ is fo’ you lot at ‘ome, sunshine, f’ you lot in’t arenas… an’ al continue to do it f’ you lot until either am sacked f’ oversteppin’ me bound’ries or am physically incapable’a doin’ so anymore! Y’ welcome!”