+ Bury A Friend : Pacify Me +
Apr 5, 2020 17:31:31 GMT -5
Blair Buchannan-Stylez and thund3renigma like this
Post by codeapathy on Apr 5, 2020 17:31:31 GMT -5
For the debt, I owe, gotta sell my soul
'Cause I can't say no, no, I can't say no
Billie Eilish - Bury A Friend
++Sometimes old habits are hard to kill. Or maybe it is just my natural inclination of survival and manipulating a situation. O’Rourke was a man after all and all men have weaknesses. I could smell the lack of sexual stimulation from him. You have to know how to play the game. I basically wrote the book. That’s the whole secret. The long con. There was a time in my life when I sacrificed everything in my life, everything I loved to chase the glory, the fame, the gold. Then I grew up. The truth was I had nothing against Enigma. I couldn’t fault her for taking a cheap shot. I would have done the same. I repaid her kindness. This match was merely a formal introduction one on one. There was something about Vegas that injected itself into your veins and got you high. There was always that mantra about what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas and for the most part that is true. Sin was everywhere to be found. Vices abound for the discerning customer. Vices were my forte. Drugs, women, booze and financial ruin as far as the eye could see. Only Johnny Stylez could get us into Vegas during a fucking quarantine. It was like our personal playground. Which meant luxury suites were ripe for the picking. Blair wasn’t the only high maintenance woman in the company with a price tag to match. Sure, the grit and grim was nice and it was a comfortable place for me, but once you get a taste of platinum and gold, you kind of acquire a taste for it once in a while. Besides, alimony money doesn’t spend itself. As it so happened an old journalist friend was now staged right out of the gambling capital of the world. Michael Madden. A former rival turned ally. I stood to pour a glass of bourbon as he made himself comfortable on the custom made, purple plush velvet sofa++
Madden - Fucking hell Liz, talk about upgrade eh?
Elizabeth - Life is so short, might as well go big or go home. You and I both know I can afford it.
Madden - Always the rich bitch. Except your money belongs to every man who you either got bored of, crossed you, or disappeared. Oh, I guess we can add dying under suspicious circumstances to that list now, eh?
Elizabeth - Whatever do you mean mon ami? Thomas died in a plane crash. Nothing suspicious about that now is there? Planes crash all the time. You just never know if it’s going to be yours.
++I nonchalantly poured myself a glass of whiskey, picked up both glasses and casually handed him his as I took my seat in a matching chair, crossing my legs. My eyes darted to the mirror panels on the wall. The vintage boat neck top accented my broad shoulders. Vintage kitsch was great and thrift stores and specialty shops were more than glad to open for a private shopping excursion. Money talks++
Madden - The plane crash isn’t what is suspect Liz, it is the fact that he was traveling to Russia. Who charters a plane to go to Russia?
Elizabeth - Well he was a drug addict in the end so maybe he was going to get himself some pure krokodil for his amusement. It isn’t my problem and the life insurance and settlement money spends honey. Now, how about some questions and talk that matter? After all, this is an exclusive and intimate interview just for you. You called in the favor. So make it worth my while.
Madden - So the first question I have to throw at you Lizzy is what’s changed? How have you changed? The person you are now is a pale comparison to the rage-induced woman you used to be. Your demeanor has changed. Your personality is different. Why? What happened in your life that was so altering that it shifted your entire personality?
Elizabeth - Right out the gate with the left hook? I like it.
++I lazily balanced a custom made leopard print tiki heel off my right foot, moving it back and forth. Contemplating. Choosing my words and phrases exactly. I took a sip of my Irish whiskey, a gift from a certain Mr. O’Rourke, and savored the taste and the thoughts that brought me to where I at now. I swirled the liquid around in my crystal glass and scoffed to myself++
Elizabeth - I have a debt to pay. Allow me to elaborate. Most women don’t make it this long in the business. Our shelf life is pretty short. The fact is our bodies, for the most part, aren’t as strong as men. It can only take so much of this road life and the injury-prone work before we have to call it quits. That is just on the surface. Then you get into the dichotomy of pregnancies, planning our career around them, hoping you work for a company that is maternity friendly and if the pregnancy will be normal or complicated, thus putting your body at risk. I know numerous women who took time off to have a baby and never returned. The pregnancy took too much of a toll on their body or the baby was born with complications. Not to mention the risk that what we do puts our lady parts in. Do you know what it is like to have a tag partner take an LOA for pregnancy, then get a call a few days later saying you have a funeral to go too because the pregnancy put too much stress and strain on her reproductive system, she hemorrhaged and died on the table?
Madden - That is some really deep shit right there Lizzy. Go on. Tell me more about this debt.
Elizabeth - I am still here. I am still doing this. A few weeks ago I asked Blair in passing conversation why she chose to do this. She’s beautiful. She was an A-Class model. She’s better than this business and what she told me struck a nerve and made me start thinking. I started to think about why I’m here. This was not what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be a lawyer. I wanted to maybe work for the FBI at some junction. Criminal Justice was my passion. I majored in it. I minored in psychology and sociology. I had plans that didn’t include this. I ended up here because a guy fucked me over, abandoned me, and the only way I could find him was to get into this business to pick up his trail. That was over ten years ago. I’m still here. That’s when I started thinking about girls who broke into the business at the same time I did. Where they are now, how they ended up. Maybe one or two made a healthy adjustment leaving the business, the rest? The business was different then. The “women’s revolution” didn’t exist yet. We weren’t taken seriously. We were exploited. Any woman who dared to buck against the boys club was blackballed.
Madden - Go on. I’m beginning to get a sense of where this debt of yours is going. This is some rich material.
++Another sip of my drink and I rested my head back. So many girls. So much shit we had to endure. Things were different now. We had power. We weren’t taken lightly. We were fierce and resilient. We came into our own. I shifted my legs, crossing in the other direction, the crisp material of the linen of my capris rustled as I did. Michael had gotten up and made himself at home, pouring himself another drink. He had come a long way since Chicago. He started as a radio pundit and now he was covering prize fights and the politics of Las Vegas. He did well for himself. Though his nose never did straighten out after I kicked him in the face. Water under the bridge++
Elizabeth - In a way, I was one of the lucky ones. I aligned myself with powerful men from the get-go. I still had to work my way up but I had someone watching my back. Other girls were not as savvy or lucky. We tried to take care of each other but when you’re young and hungry for money and fame, safety is the last thing on your mind. I don’t know how many times I got a call in the hotel, “they gang-raped me, please come pick me up”, or “I think I was roofied. I think he raped me.”. I lost count of the number of abortions I had to be there for as support or STD examinations I had to be the driver for. There is also no amount of therapy or pills that can erase every suicide scene I walked in on. Gunshot wounds, hangings, wrists slit in the bathtub. Meanwhile, I am still here. I personally thought I would be dead by now. I should be with all the shit I’ve done to myself. Since I came back to primetime I have had run-ins with Fury, Enigma and truth be told I’m glad. My biggest worry is that we will get another influx of soft women who risk damaging the strides that have been made. That isn’t the case. Fury hates my guts. Then again I think she hates everything and anything because money can’t buy happiness and she’s a miserable twat that wants everyone to be miserable with her. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Enigma took personal offense to my actions and tried to knock me down a peg. She’s an opportunist. I can respect that.
++Michael sat down and exhaled. Processing my words. The shameful thing was I no longer felt pain when I retold these stories or situations. It didn’t hurt anymore. They were realities and a part of my life. They shaped me, molded me and guided me. Madden shook his head and slouched down into the couch++
Madden - Jesus Christ. Off the record Liz, that is some shit. I mean I remember when I worked in Denver, where we met, I saw some shit then but I never once thought it was like this. I need to know, just to put this in perspective, were you ever a victim of any of this type of shit? Off the record.
Elizabeth - I got into the drugs, sure. I was a raging alcoholic. I’ve been jumped and beaten because I refused advances. Humiliated live. Stalked. I even married my rapist. His death money paid for this suite and the booze you’re drinking.
Madden - Tom…
Elizabeth - I survived and that is all that matters. That is what the new-gen doesn’t get. To them, I am an old name that is out of place and time and need to catch up. I don’t “get” their new generation. Things have “changed” and I need to get with it. The thing is, I’ve climbed that mountain, basked in the glory at the top and marched my ass back down again because I chose too. I dictate my own career and the path I choose. Nobody else. Chasing glory and fame are for people who don’t have it, need it, or it’s all they have. That isn’t me. Counting wins are for people whose entire existence is built on how great they supposedly are. Until the next best thing comes along and they aren’t hot shit anymore then suddenly they are irrelevant and struggling to keep their heads above water. When Fury went all ragey on me and told me that she was going to humble me in the ring, it sounded good and yeah, I lost but did I even really try to win or was I just humoring her? Did I just give her what she wanted because being dominant is her vibe and losing would have fucked her up?
Enigma took offense at me. She let it be known. I reciprocated her outrage with my own violent reply. That was foreplay. We were seducing each other. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. We were toying with each other, getting each other hot and wet to see which one of us would break down and beg for it first. I don’t beg though. I take what I want. I guess then you could consider this match the equivalent of my answering her cock tease by pinning her against the wall and shoving my tongue down her throat. My agenda is completely different. This is for sport. I’m hunting. I’m in it for the love of the game. I’m not inclined to belts right now. Maybe later. Right now I just want to play the field and have some fun.
++Madden leaned forward and in close. I could see in his eyes he was trying to visualize the words I just spoke. He cleared his throat and drank down the rest of his bourbon. As he sat, processing the mental image I stood up, moving away from the small living area and walked to the private balcony. The doors had been open letting the desert breezes blow in. As I leaned on the railing, looking out over the city view, I exhaled. Madden had finally left his HLA trance and took some notes++
Madden - So your debt, is that you made it out? You are still here? Is it guilt or a feeling that you owe the ones that didn’t get this far?
Elizabeth - I sold my soul to this business. I’m in it deep. I have done things that no normal woman would ever even consider. For someone like me, once you are in, you are in for life. I know too much and I’ve seen too much. Yet I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The debt I owe is to every marriage I ever broke up, every relationship I ever ruined. I owe it for every bone broken and drop of blood spilled. I owe for every feud that went too far and spilled over into a personal vendetta. I owe for every innocent man I used, the impressionable women I seduced and using my sexual power as a means to get ahead. I owe a debt...I can never repay. The blood on my hands is not my own. It never has been. The blood on my hands is of every girl I came into this business with who I couldn’t save...or refused too. Blood of men who vexed me. Blood of children I didn’t have the balls to bring into this world. What happened that changed me, you asked? Reality changed me.
Self-realization is a very dangerous thing. One minute it’s all fun and games and the next you are medicated with the proper meds and you suddenly see things in a very different light. You suddenly see the *real* things you did and the *real* way you behaved and how things *really* happened and it’s traumatizing at first but then you sit down and you sort through it all and make sense of it. I spent years blaming myself for things I had no control over because I was fighting a demon inside me that had no face or name, it just existed. I took responsibility for things and shouldered blame and burden for things that were not mine to bear because I was sick and I thought if I did, it would make things better. I apologized for things that I had no reason to be sorry about. Felt ashamed and dirty, when there was no need. I held my tongue, out of fear of persecution and offense, when I should have screamed at the top of my lungs.
I woke up, Madden, that is what changed. That is why I am who I am now. I see things for what they are. I see people for who and what they truly are. The haze that had blinded me the majority of my life, is gone. It is very sobering. According to some my story should already have been finished. My book should be closed. I disagree. There are a lot of loose ends still that I need to deal with. There are still some chapters that have not yet been fully written. My story is done when I fucking say it is. I am done when I fucking say I am. When I am absolutely fully fucking satisfied with my career and my life, then I will call it quits until then, not a day sooner.
Madden - And what is your relationship with Blair Buchannan - Stylez?
Elizabeth - Business of course. Blair and I are very like-minded. I see great things ahead for both of us. She is beautiful, smart and style-savvy and I am very business-minded and bring connections to the table that her husband doesn’t have. Pooling your resources is key. I know things should be awkward because of the personal history between myself and Johnny and her current situation but, let’s be honest Blair and I actually spend more time trading sex stories about Johnny. It isn’t awkward for me at all. It is what it is. You get yourself into trouble when you overthink things…..
++Just then I heard my cellphone begin to ring. I knew the tone and who it was. I darted my eyes to the phone and back to Madden++
Elizabeth - I need to take that and it’s a very private call. I have an idea. I think this interview is solid. You go back to your pad, get changed, and after I handle this I will swing by, with a limo and we will go get into some trouble. Deal?
Madden - You fuckin’ right it’s a deal. You get me on TMZ again and I’ll kiss you!
Elizabeth - Oh! You tease! Go on.
++Michael winked and grabbed his things and saw himself out. I grabbed the cellphone, re-dialed the missed call and cooed++
Elizabeth - Hello darling. Sorry about that. Was giving an exclusive interview. Miss me already I see...